


The feeling of being needed

by Jusu



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Coming Out, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2017-12-27 10:27:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 49,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jusu/pseuds/Jusu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean has always been a somewhat lonely person, always clinging onto the very few friends that he has. When he starts going to Trost Secondary School, he meets Marco, a guy he never met before in his life yet Jean feels oddly connected to him as if they've met before.<br/>Jean struggles with his feelings towards Marco as he can't seem to figure out why he feels so attached to him and why he keeps seeing Marco in his dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The day we met

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I write fanfiction in years, so please give me all of the feedback you have to give. I thought writing would be a good outlet for all the feels this ship makes me feel.

‘ _This is going to suck.’_ Jean thought to himself as he glared at the school building. This was the place he was going to have to go to almost every weekday, for three years. He had originally set his eyes upon another school, but in the end decided to go with his second choice. All it took was the thought of about going to a school that was considered as prestigious as his first choice made him regret his choice. But he knew it was for the best, if he went here he could study whatever he wanted to study afterwards at the U, instead of studying what he really wanted to study right now, only to find out that it’s not really his thing and then be locked down to continue on that path even if he didn’t want to.

He let out a loud sigh as he figured glaring at a building wasn’t going to make these three years go by any faster, but just as he was about to take a step forward, he felt someone, or something hit his upper back. Shocked, Jean spun around only to see a familiar, yet so stupid grin.

“Sup, Jean!?” The familiar person greeted him and put his arm jokingly around him.

 

“Connie, what the hell?” Jean said in a harsh tone, trying to mask his surprise. _‘You scared me!’  
_ He didn’t expect to run into one of the few people he knew was going to the same school as him. Connie decided to ignore the harsh tone, and continued on with his greeting.”Good to see that you decided to go to Trost after all! You made the right choice!”

“ _ **Jeaaaan!**_ _ **Connieeee!**_ ” Another familiar voice called out to him. This one clearly belonged to a female, and therefore it could only mean one person.

“Hey! Sasha!” Connie chuckled and turned his head so he could see her. Connie let go of Jean and turned around so he could properly face her. While it was tempting to continue to walk without the dumb duo, Jean did see them as friends so he also turned around to face Sasha. She was flailing her arms in the air as she ran towards them. Her hair was in a ponytail like always, Jean could barely remember last time he saw her with her hair down. When she had caught up with them, Connie and Sasha did their stupid handshake that seemed to have gotten a new routine, as some moves had been taken out and new ones had been added. It didn’t matter for Jean though. It was still stupid and childish as it had always been. Luckily, they had given up long ago to make Jean join in on their handshake.

“Jean!” Sasha said and held up her hand in the air, signalling for a high-five.

“Seriously?” He responded with a bored tone before complying. He knew that she always used all of her strength when it came to giving high-fives, so the burning feeling in his hand wasn’t a surprise. He cringed and put the wounded hand in his pockets as he tried to steel his expression. He didn’t know if he was successful or not, because Sasha and Connie were grinning like idiots, but it wasn’t really uncommon that they did that.

“We’re in the same class again! This is going to be so much fun!” She jumped in the air and gave Connie an extreme high-five as well. Connie wasn’t much for concealing the pain and let out an “Oow!” and Sasha was visibly biting her own lip not to say the same. Both of them were still smiling, and so was Jean.

“So what made you change your mind, Jean? Did our pleas finally reach you?”

Jean sighed before delivering his response. “No, I decided that going to Trost was going to leave more doors open to where I want to go next.” He blamed the flawed education system. How are teens supposed to know at the age 15 what they want to do when they’re 40?

Suppose it was fine though. He wouldn’t have to move or commute to his school, and his old friends was in the same class, so... Jean hated it that he was quite attached to the stupid duo, and that sometimes he went to places or did things with them simply because they were doing it and Jean didn’t want to be alone. He wasn’t the one to suffer quietly though, and would always voice his opinion, earning him the nickname “party-pooper” or “jerk”.

“Yeah, sure.” Sasha said and waved her hand dismissively before stepping forward and almost whispering to him, “It’s fine, you can admit to liking us.”

The stupid duo grinned as Jean could feel his face heat up a little. Even if he had been friends with Sasha for years now, he still felt a bit uneasy being physically close to women. And on top of that, he was a bit shy when it came to displaying or expressing affection, something the duo knew very well and teased him about constantly. Connie had originally thought that it was being physically close to anyone that had triggered Jean to blush, which was meet with disappointment when Jean had to convince him that it wouldn’t work because Jean isn’t gay. He really wanted to have a girlfriend though, but as long as he felt uneasy being close to women, it was probably never going to happen.

 

The trio walked together towards the building, talking about how exciting it was going to be to be in the same class again. When inside the building, Jean decided to butt in with a comment.

“How long will it take until the teacher decides that you guys aren’t mature enough to sit next to each other and will assign seats to everyone?”

That had usually been the case before. When most students get to pick their own seats because the teachers had considered them mature enough, Connie and Sasha would have convinced the teachers otherwise by their behaviour. This usually led to the teacher assigning seats to everyone, or forbidding Connie and Sasha to sit next to each other. Or even near each other. This would often result in them screaming across the classroom to communicate. Most teachers would make Jean sit in between them to keep them grounded, because then they wouldn’t have to scream to communicate and Jean would tell them to be quiet. Oddly enough, they did listen to him, and Jean was the only one who could make them quiet for about 60% of a lecture. Considering this was Sasha and Connie, that number was quite high. He wasn’t a miracle-worker, but he was better than the teachers. 

“Aw, come on man, don’t be like that!” Connie nudged Jean’s arm with his elbow. “This is highschool--”

“Secondary school.” Jean muttered under his breath. The educational system was different here than where Connie came from, but he had decided to try to translate it accordingly to the school system he was used to. That was the only reason Connie was in the same year as Sasha, though it probably would do him good if he repeated a year. It wouldn’t be the end of the world anyway since he would then be in a class with people the same age as him.

 

“They have to let us sit wherever we want to. And what’s so great is that we’ll be allowed to pull desks around, so now we’ll be able to sit in a group of three!”

“Really?” Sasha asked, and her excitement was clearly showing in her eyes.

“As if.” Jean said in a disapprovingly tone. Connie frowned. “Totally is! I heard it from some of the upperclassmen during a party I went to this summer!”

“You went to a party this summer with a bunch of upperclassmen? Where?”

Jean remained quiet as the other two started to discuss what Connie had done during the summer. He looked around in the building and examined their surroundings as they followed a few signs with an arrow on them. He spotted one sign pointing in another direction, and had to stop the stupid duo from going there as it was clearly not pointing towards the right direction. 

“How do you know?” Connie snapped back after Jean said they were going the wrong way.

Jean sighed. “Because I can see the stairs over there, and also this sign is different from the others. Probably a prank set up by some upperclassmen.” His tone was harsh. Outsiders would probably think they were fighting by listening to their tones, but that rarely was the case. Both of them hated being wrong, so whenever they got accused for it, one would snap and the other one would angrily prove their point. This included Sasha as well, to a certain degree.

 

As they reached a flight of stairs, Sasha had switched sides and was now walking next to Jean instead, “This is great, huh? We’ll be sitting next to each other during all classes this year!”

“I’m not letting you copy my notes just because you don’t pay any attention in class.” Jean responded.

Sasha booed, and Connie asked why they were only going to sit next to each other during the first year.

“...’Cause who wants to sit next to you losers?” Jean muttered. Connie smacked Jean from the back of his head as he hurried up the stairs. “You do!” A statement that Jean didn’t feel like denying since it was true. Jean knew why he was doing so. Not because they were in a hurry to make it to the assembly room in time, they couldn’t care any less. Connie was noticeably the shortest one in the group, so when presented any opportunity to stand on a higher ground than the rest of his friends, he always took it. Everyone in this group this group had things that riled them, and they were also different levels of cheeky. So teasing was part of their daily lives. And so Sasha had speed up her walking speed as well, not really caring if Jean could see her underwear from where he was standing.

“Because during the first year we’re all studying the same courses. Later on, we’ll be able to pick more courses or remove courses that we don’t wanna have.”

“Really?” Connie said as he speed up further, “Do you know what courses we can pick in between?”

“Nah, not really. But we should decide together what courses we should pick so we have the same ones!”

“Isn’t it more important to pick the courses you’re actually interested in, instead of the picking the ones someone else picked?” Jean interrupted the two of them by being the voice of reason. They both frowned slightly, even though they probably knew that Jean was right, they didn't want to be apart.

 

They stopped at the end of the stairs and waited for Jean to catch up. “Well, yeah,” Connie started to say, “That’s why we need to sit together so we’ll be able to pick courses together!”

“Whatever.” Jean sighed, “It’s not like you guys will be able to study math or physics at my level.”

Sasha cringed and Connie recoiled. “Yeah, you’re on your own if you wanna pick that.” Connie said and showed his hands down his pockets. “You should pick those courses though, man. It’s what you enjoy, strangely enough and what you should be doing.”

Sasha agreed, “Yeah, totally! But we’ll be able to pick more than just two courses, so we can join together in some courses! Too bad we suck at that math crap, otherwise we could’ve picked it too.”

“Maybe we could pick it so we wouldn’t suck anymore…”

“Whaaat, no way! It would be too difficult for us to keep up, even if we would take private lessons from Jean!”

The support coming from Connie and Sasha was a surprise to Jean. It was still very welcomed, and did spur his almost non-existent excitement for the coming years. It was quite touching. These three years ahead of him wouldn’t perhaps be so bad as he had feared if Connie and Sasha continued to stick around him.

 

“Anyway…” Jean cleared his throat and tried to get rid of the touchy-feelingness he was experiencing. “It’s not really true, we’ll get to pick one course during our first year.” The other two looked at him and Jean took it as a cue to continue. “Aesthetics.” He paused before continuing, “We get to choose between three courses, Theatre, Art and Music. I’ve already decided which one I’m going to pick.”

“Ah, shit!” Connie cursed, “I thought that we weren’t going to have to put up with those shit aesthetic courses in high school.” He sighed and scratched his neck, “Well, I can’t really sing for shit, so… What are you going to pick, Sasha?”

“Your singing isn’t that bad.” Jean made a weak protest. “You could easily qualify to sing in the school choir with some voice training.”

“Thanks man, but nah… Theatre sounds like fun.” Connie gave Jean a smile.

“Yeah, I think so too.” Sasha piqued up, “ I was thinking about picking art, but I’m not really interested enough in drawing with different mediums and stuff.”

“In theatre class you’ll probably get to get rid of some of that energy you two harbour by playing around.” They would probably play around more than acting though. He tried to imagine them as leads in a drama. The image of the stupid due overacting was something that made Jean crack a smile. 

 

He looked around in the corridor and scanned the architecture. He noticed that the wall to the right has quite a large crack in it. Trost Secondary School was one of the oldest schools in the area, and it was also one of the oldest buildings in the area. Half of the school had been renovated and rebuilt, but not the area where all the classrooms were. He listened in to what Connie and Sasha was thinking about his suggestion. It sounded like they approved of it and made up their mind. He felt a bit jealous. Those two were always together, which made Jean occasionally feel like the third wheel. Sasha and Connie had a lot more in common with each other than what Jean had with either of them. He had to pull their collars to prevent them from going the wrong way as their excited chatter had made them miss the arrow pointing to the left.

 

They’re dumb. But they are his friends. His dumb friends. The only friends he had.

The only people he knew that were dumb enough to put up with his jerkass personality.

So it was fine that he was going to spend three more years by their side. After all, being alone is something that Jean fears.

He continued to walk in silence as he listened in to their conversation and pondering how much he was going to be alone because he picked a course differently from them. And how many courses he was going to have to go to alone in the coming years. Pathetic, already feeling abandoned the first day, especially considering he was planning to go to another school completely.

 

They finally reached the assembly room, and it was almost packed from wall to wall with all of the new students. There was only three seats left in the rows assigned for their class, but only two of them were next to each other. The duo looked at each other, wordlessly pondering about who was going to sit alone. Jean didn’t want to sit alone, but he didn’t feel like standing and awkwardly exchanging guilty looks with his friends. And so, he sighed and rolled his eyes before stepping away from them. Connie gave him a pat on his back, mumbling “Sorry”, before walking over to the two empty seats. Sasha offered him an apologetic look. ‘Was it already starting?’ Things were never really meant for an uneven amount of people anyway. Like the number of seats, or the number of swings.

 

Jean sat down in between a blonde girl in a gray hoodie, and a guy with black hair. The blonde girl in the gray hoodie looked extremely bored, as she had sunk down in her seat and was browsing some random site with funny images. The seat next to her was probably empty because no-one wanted to sit next to her. Jean felt a little bad, he had the same problem with people thinking that he had the face of a thug, and his personality certainly didn't help. But then again, what did he know, she might be the sweetest person alive, and the guy next to Jean took the seat at the aisle because he has to go to the bathroom a lot? Yeah, right. Jean would’ve probably continued to watch those images on her phone if not the other guy next to him had tapped him on the shoulder. Jean turned around to face him and noticed that he had freckles all over his checks.

“Hi, sorry! I thought I’d introduce myself.” He shifted his position and offered his right hand to Jean. “My name is Marco, what’s yours?”

‘ _Marco, huh. He seems friendly enough. Almost bordering on annoyingly friendly._ ’ He had been busy looking at the girl to his left and her phone than at the guy to the right of him. “I’m Jean.”

Marco leaned a bit forward and tried to make eye-contact with the bored girl to the left of Jean, but she was either in her own bubble or ignoring him on purpose. He straighten his back once again and gave Jean a smile. Every time someone was being kind towards him it made him a bit uneasy, mostly because he wasn’t used being approached by those kind of people. Kind people that is.

 

“So, uh, why did you pick Trost?” Jean asked, wanting to have a conversation with this Marco guy.

Marco looked a bit confused before he returned to smiling. “Trost SS is known to be a good school when it comes to natural science and languages. I want to study math later on at the university.”

“Huh.” Jean said, trying to conceal the small happiness he felt about someone having the same motives and interests as him. “Same for me.”

Both of them turned their heads to the left as they heard the girl in the hoodie scoff.

“So you were listening, eh?” Jean asked. She shot a glare at their direction. It made him feel as half of his self-confidence had disappeared, but he decided to continue talking anyway. “What are you scoffing about?”

She continued to glare at him and replied in a tone that sounded like a mixture of being bored and angry. “I saw both of you at SINA during the information day. So why are you here?”

“Heh, I could ask you the same?” Now when he thought about, she did look somewhat familiar. But Jean wasn’t the best when it came to remember faces, so just seeing her once wouldn’t be enough for Jean to feel like he’s seen her before. Also considering she had quite a small presence.

“I didn’t want to move away from my family and start taking loans just yet.” Marco carefully responded. Almost the same reasons as Jean. Except that Jean didn’t really mind moving away from his family. Not because he hated them, but it would be nice to be more independent and get some privacy. His mother didn't understand the concept of knocking and usually questioned Jean whenever he locked his room. His siblings didn't seem to be as bothered by this as Jean, but they at least knew how to knock. Waiting for a reply before opening the door never crossed their minds though.

“Renting a room near SINA is quite expensive, and I don’t feel like commuting is an option since it takes 4 hours just to get there. I don’t feel like being in debt this early in life either.” Jean paused as he shifted his position. “Besides, what if I don’t feel like math in the future? Then I would have to drop out of SINA, or take complementary courses after graduating.”

Her glare soften and a hint of interest could be seen before she broke eye contact. “I see.”

Their conversation was cut short as the principal had appeared and had started to talk.

 

When he was starting to talk about the history of the school, Jean started to space out. The girl next to him had returned to browsing on her phone, and Marco seemed to hinge at every word that the principal spewed out. They had occasionally exchanged some comments during the speech, but Jean hadn’t pushed it beyond that. Marco seemed to be the type of guy who listens to every word from anyone with an authority. Then after what seemed like an eternity, they finally got to leave the assembly room and head to their homeroom.

“So, Jean, what are your interests?” Jean turned around. Marco closely following after him.

‘ _Nothing special, I’m kinda boring.’_ “I dunno, hanging out with my friends, playing some games. Nothing special.”

Marco returned a smile. “I see. I like that too.” That reply made Jean want to curl up in a corner and die. Why did he feel so awkward talking to Marco? Because just this one time, this one time, he didn’t want to come across as rude and actually make a friend. Jean glanced over in Marco’s direction, he was still smiling at him. ‘ _I should probably say something.’_

 

But his thoughts didn’t get a chance to become action as both of the boys were interrupted by the blonde girl from earlier who walked briskly in between them.

“What room?” She asked, still looking at her phone.

“ _Huh?_ ” A nasal noise escaped Jean. Marco looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh. The girl’s expression looked as bored as always. “What number is our homeroom?” She asked, her voice slightly raised than previously.

“A 104.”Jean responded, and with a nod, the girl returned to walking briskly ahead of them. “Hey, wait!” Jean called out to her. She immediately stopped walking and looked up at them.

“What’s your name?”

She looked down, but not at her phone. “Annie.” Weird, she almost seemed reluctant to tell them.

“I see. Well, my name is--”

“Jean.” she interrupted him. “I know. Freckles here has said your name repeatedly, so…” Her gaze lifted from the floor and was now aimed at them. Was her eyes permanently half-lidded like that?

“My name is Marco...” Even though he barely knew him, it was easy to tell that Marco was uncomfortable around the girl. She didn’t even bat an eye at his introduction. “See you in class.”

And with that she was walking briskly away from them, with her phone in her hand, staring down at it.

 

“She’s a little scary…” Marco mumbled. Jean clicked with his tongue and took a deep breath, “Whatever. Not our problem if her attitude stinks. You should just ignore whatever comes out of her mouth if you don’t like her.” Jean was a bit surprised that he managed to talk properly for the first time towards Marco.

His smile returned and he thanked Jean as he straighten out his shirt before fidgeting with the hem of it again. If that Annie chick was hard to read to to her lack of expression, Marco was quite the opposite. Deciding that he was on a roll, he tried to continue from where they conversation left off.

“So, uh, what kind of games do you like?” ‘ _Damn_ ’

They continued to chat about their interests as they walked through the corridor and down a floor, with Jean either stuttering or saying at least one “ _uh_ ” every other sentence. He had no idea why it was so difficult to talk with just Marco. He didn’t have that problem when he became friends with Connie and Sasha, or even with intimidating Annie.

Ah, well. He would have three years to get to know Marco and learn how to talk normally.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that the pacing is really slow in the beginning, but bear with me, it will speed up later.
> 
> Feedback is much appreciated! Is the chapter length okay? Should they be longer, or shorter? And please tell me if you find any errors so I can correct them.


	2. The day we met - part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 1 (2013-09-29): Noticed that the formating was acting weird. Updated it and fixed a few mistakes.

Sasha and Connie almost stormed the room, laughing, and with their arms around each other. They almost walked mechanically towards the corner where Jean was sitting. All eyes in the classroom was targeted at them, but they couldn’t seem to care less. It was hardly something new for them. They loudly greeted him as they sat down, repeatedly saying his name with that annoying tone they always used whenever they wanted his attention. Connie almost fell out of his chair immediately after getting seated. Curse words coming from behind his desk as he had clung unto his desk with both of his hands in order to not fall down. Sasha leaned over the desk with a mischievous smile on her face.

“ _Jeaaan..._ ” she said to get his attention. As if their loud entrance hadn’t done the trick already. “If you want to, you can drag a desk and sit next to Connie.” She stretched her entire arm out across the desk and drummed with her fingers on Connie’s desk as a signal for Jean to come over. _‘I really wish you’d stop that…’_ He thought to himself as he felt his face was starting to stiffen up more and more for each tap he heard Sasha’s finger make.”

 

Jean looked at Marco, who was looking right back at him. It would be rude to move, especially since Marco sat down next to him, of his free will. Wow.

Marco’s expression made him feel even worse, like he wanted to slap Sasha across her head and apologize in her stead. But Jean was still restraining himself in order to make a good impression, so that thought would never make it to reality. For today at least.

“Nah, thanks, I’m good. I’ll sit next to Marco here.”

She blinked a few times before turning her head to the side and looked at Marco. “Oops, my bad! Didn’t see you there!” she laughed nervously and scratched her neck. “Hi... I’m Sasha. And this is Connie.” she offered her hand to shake Marco and used her other hand to point at Connie. They shook hands, and Connie introduced himself to Marco as he finally managed to sit properly. Though it only lasted for a few seconds as he almost fell off once more.

“What the hell?! This chair is broken!” he yelled and marched off to switch his chair to another one that wasn’t taken and broken. Connie’s cursing was still audible even though he had walked across the classroom and was now at the front row.

“I take it as you guys know each other?” Marco asked. Poor guy looked all confused over all the noise and energy the stupid duo was emitting.

“Yeah, I’ve known Jean for like... Six, seven years or so. Though we didn’t start hanging out until Connie moved to Trost about four years ago. ”

“Most unusual that you know your numbers, Sasha.” Jean folded his arms and scoffed. ”Especially so when it didn’t have to do with food.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, you see...” And then Jean decided to tune out her rambling which was most likely something about food.

Has it really been that long? Thinking back, the days sometimes felt excruciating long, or short. Especially the days before Jean started to hang out with with Sasha and Connie. He couldn’t really remember how it happened, probably gradually with occasional chatter, that then lead to them sit next to him during lunch which in turn lead to them becoming friends and hanging out together outside of school. Somehow those slow days alone had suddenly started to roll past.

 

Sasha and Marco had continued on with their introductions while Jean had been reminiscing about the past. Connie returned back with another chair and sat down.

“Where did you put the broken chair?” Jean asked.

Connie glanced over in the direction where he came from. “Switched it out with the chair over there.”

“You should warn the person who’s thinking about sitting there so they don’t fall off like you did when you tried to sit there.”

Connie shrugged, “First off, I didn’t fall off. Second, it’s quite obvious that it’s broken. And it’s not my problem that the school doesn’t have enough chairs for all of the students.”

 _’But you didn’t seem to notice that it was broken when you sat down on it.’_ Jean didn’t feel like arguing any further since Connie did have a point. Broken equipment and furniture wasn’t the students responsibility.

“Still, isn’t it better if you put that chair in a corner along with a note that says it’s broken so someone won’t sit on it and look as stupid as you did?”

“What, no, I’m not doing that! And nobody saw except for you, jerkwad.”

It felt a bit weird to discuss things with Connie, who sat diagonally from where Jean was sitting, while Marco was talking with Sasha who sat diagonally from each other. He felt almost a little jealous that they were talking to each other, he wanted to talk with Marco alone. He took out some of his frustration by arguing with Connie.

And with that, a large crash was heard which made the entire classroom go silent.

 

The chair had broken down completely. The person who had decided to sit in that chair looked furious and growled. Jean threw a quick glance at Connie, who looked as he wanted to sink through the chair and then the floor, as if it was his only way of escape.

The angry guy’s friend tried to calm him down as he helped his friend up from the debris of the chair. Both of them looked like jocks. Well, on closer inspection, the angry guys friend looked a bit too lanky to be a jock, but he was easily the tallest one in class.

“Our class sure seems lively.”  Marco said as he leaned in closer to Jean so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice as the classroom was getting filled with chatter ocne more.

Jean groaned. “Seems like it, though that doesn’t have to be a good thing.”  He looked disapprovingly at the stupid duo, who was chatting loudly as Connie told Sasha how much he enjoyed life and all his regrets of this life as he was going to die soon. Sasha tried to comfort him by acting all dramatically and promising him that she would carry on with his wishes and legacy.

Jean sighed, _‘Well, at least we have some form of entertainment in school. I just wish they had an on-and-off switch.’_  Glaring at the stupid duo to lay off, but they were too busy creating their shakespearean act to notice Jean. “If you keep going on in that volume, then he’ll definitely know it was you who did it.”

Marco didn’t seem to flinch over Jean’s attitude towards his friends, which was a bit of a relief. Not that his comments so far had contained 100% of pure authentic Jean jerkiness, but Jean had kind of expected Marco to stray away from him after the first comments.

Why did he care what Marco thought of him anyway? They’ve just met. Jean never really cared if he got along with people anyway, so what’s so different now?

 

The day overall had a weird pacing. Times spent socializing with Marco, Sasha, and Connie flew by, while other moments like listening to their new homeroom teacher blab on about the schedule for the coming weeks. It sounded like they were going on a picnic tomorrow so that everyone could bond with each other. Jean took notes in form of bullet points. Mostly because it helped him remember things, but also so he could give copies to the stupid duo. They often complained about his unreadable handwriting. He glanced over to see what Marco was doing. He had his notebook open, but was for the moment not taking any notes. Instead he was tapping his pen lightly on the table. He must’ve noticed that Jean was looking at him, as he gave him a smile as their eyes met. Feeling a bit flustered about the unusual amount of eye-contact he had with a person he just met, Jean broke eye-contact and stared out of the window instead. He brought his elbows up on the table and rested his head against his hands as he tried to count up all of the different plant specimen that he could see outside.

His scanning of the flora outside was interrupted by Marco who had gently nudged Jean’s arm. Lifting his head he could see from the corner of his eye that Marco was pushing his notebook closer towards Jean. He could read something written on one of the pages.

 

_“Are there any other subjects you like besides math?”_

Jean hastingly wrote a reply to Marco’s question right underneath. Compared to Jean’s handwriting, Marco’s was very neatly written. The letters were round, and the size of each letter was consistent. If Jean didn’t know it was Marco who had written that, he’d probably assume it was written by a girl. For some reason it seemed more common for girls to have prettier handwriting than guys. Ugh, scratch that, neater. Neater handwriting.

Marco grabbed his notebook and turned it so he could read Jean’s reply. He blinked for a few seconds until his happy expression slowly turned into a more troubled and confused face. Jean sighed and leaned over so he could write his reply once more, this time he tried his hardest to make his handwriting readable.

“Sorry…” Marco whispered apologetically.

Jean sighed once more. “It’s fine. I’ve been told all my life that my handwriting is crap.” He mumbled while he wrote the last letters down in his reply. He swore he could feel Marco breathe out of his nose on his face. It made Jean nervous, and his letters became a bit squiggly. Did he have to sit so close? As he finished writing his reply followed by a even squiggler _“You?”_ , he dropped his and turned back to the window. He had completely forgotten that their teacher was talking, and that he was actually giving information about tomorrow’s picnic, so Jean sharpened his ear to pick up any useful information. The location of the picnic was somewhere Jean had been before as kid, so he was thankful when another student asked if it was okay to head there right away tomorrow and not have to meet up in school first.

Jean lifted his pen and tapped with his left index finger next to Marco’s notebook to signal that he wanted to write something.

 

_“Do you know the way to the beach where we having the picnic tomorrow?”_

Oh god, that took almost an entire minute to write, and it was still barely understandable. However, it seemed to be readable enough for Marco.

 

_“No. But those who didn’t know could meet up here in school.”_

 

The sound of Marco putting his pen down made Jean instinctively look down on the paper where they had been writing on.

Marco used punctuations and everything, even though they were basically chatting on paper.

As their conversations were building up on paper, it was started to look cluttered with sentences written skewly all over the paper. They had started to write their sentences with smaller letters so they wouldn’t have to waste more paper. On the other page was Marco’s notes, all lined up properly. But before Jean had the time to write another sentence, the day had ended and the sound of screeching chairs was filling the classroom as people was starting to get up from their chairs. Marco was closing his notebook and getting ready to leave as well.

Jean felt like asking Marco if he felt like joining him in biking to the beach first thing in the morning, but he decided to keep his mouth shut for no so he wouldn’t seem too clingy.

“Hey, where are we headed?” Connie lazily asked behind them. By the guess of his tone, he had probably taken a nap. That would also explain why the stupid duo had been so quiet.

“Were you guys napping again?”

“Yes!” Sasha said hugged Jean from the side. “We could both sleep oh, so soundly because we knew we could count on you to keep us informed and safe.” The physical contact made Jean blush all the way to his ears. His second reaction was to fury his eyebrows as much as humanly possible as he tried to push the girl away. “Get your greasy fingers off me!” This was met with booing from Sasha.

“So, yeah, where are people headed?” Connie asked as he scratched his nose. And then his arm. For some reason he always scratched himself after napping.

“We were going to see where our lockers are and get assigned to them.” Marco answered. Oh, why did he have to be here? He imagined that he felt very similar to how Connie was feeling after viewing the broken chair incident. Okay, maybe not that bad, but it was still bad.

 

“These lockers are friggin’ tiny.”

They looked like they were half of the size of the lockers they had in their previous school. What was even worse was that there was two rows, one upper and one below. With Jean’s luck, he was probably going to be assigned to one at the bottom. The numbers were handed out by the first letter of the alphabet in their surname, so Sasha and Marco got the first top ones, next to each other. Jean sighed. It wasn’t so bad, that would just leave him a reason to walk up to Marco whenever Sasha was there as well before they become good enough friends to-- Wait, why was he so obsessed with Marco now again?

 And contrary to what he had believed, he actually got a locker on the upper row. That Annie chick had the locker below his though. Suppose it was fine, especially when it came to them being size-accordingly to which row their locker was on. That girl was rather short, almost as short as Connie. She probably didn’t have the same fixation about it, considering her attitude. Or maybe she did, what did he know? She turned her head upwards as if she knew Jean had been looking at her. Their eyes met briefly before both of the broke eye contact and walked away in separate directions.

“Look, look, I got a top locker!” Sasha bounced excitedly. Marco, who was crouching down below her, smiled, either at Jean’s arrival or at Sasha’s excitement. Perhaps a little of both.

“We’ll be getting our books next.” He said and closed his locker. Didn’t he get a top locker too? He could’ve sworn that he saw him open a top locker first. Tch, why did his gaze always wander to where Marco was?

“Wouldn’t it be better if we got our books first before viewing our lockers?” Sasha asked as she too closed her locker. Yes, wouldn’t it? They would have to come here later again to put away their books here anyway.

Jean cupped his chin and lowered his brows. “We’re not the only new class today starting school today so our teacher probably brought us here to kill time and let another class get their books first.” Sasha seemed to have accepted that logic and nodded in agreement.

Connie approached them with his right arm behind his neck and wearing a glum expression on his face. “So, uh…” His eyes darted as he fiddled with his key. “Does anyone wanna switch lockers with me?”

Jean crossed his arms as his eyebrows furrowed even further. “Why?”

Connie then lifted his other hand that contained a small piece of paper. “I found this in my locker...” Jean wrinkled his nose in disapprovement of Connie’s suspicious behaviour.

He snatched the crumpled-up note from Connie’s hand and unraveled it.

 

_“To the person who’s getting this locker after me:_

_I had a dead snake here for 3 months._

_You’re welcome.”_

 

Jean quickly crushed the note in his hand as he felt a weird smell coming from the note, making him want go and take a shower. “Nah, man, you’re on your own.” He said and tossed the paper behind him at Sasha before leaving to wash his hands for five minutes. She joined him ten seconds later, having the same facial expression as Jean imagined he had when he left the locker area.

 

After fetching their books, Jean quickly sorted through his books on which ones he wanted to bring home and which ones he could leave in school. Once finished, he closed his locker and adjusted his bag. With long-legged strides, Jean hurried back over to where Sasha’s and Marco’s lockers were located, eager to join in whatever they were talking about. This time, he was the last one to join in, as Connie practically bolted from his locker as soon as they got back from the school library. Connie was fidgeting uncontrollably behind Sasha, and it didn’t take long until Jean figured out why.

“Oi,” the tall figure said as he turned to face Jean. “Name’s Reiner, we’re in the same class.” His posture and confidence was something to be jealous of. It was completely in contrast of his taller friend next to him.

“Jean Kirstein.” Jean said as he shook hands with the guy as Connie continued to cower behind Sasha. Reiner stature and earlier burst in the classroom made Jean a bit nervous around him as well, but he was never going to openly admit it though. Especially not to Connie. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine!” Reiner beamed. “Oh, and this is my closest pal, Bertholdt.”

“H-hi, nice to meet you.” Zero confidence.

As they shook hands, a shiver of unpleasantness was sent through Jean’s spine. While the handshake with Reiner had pretty much been the handshake that many would describe as the perfect handshake, firm, warm and welcoming, this was like the worst Jean had experienced in his whole life. It was like shaking hands with a dead fish. His hand felt all sweaty and clammy, but it would be rude if he wiped his hand immediately after shaking hands, so Jean did his best to fight the urge to do so.

 

“Move.”

 

Bertholdt’s body visibly stiffened at the command and spun around to see from whom it came from. It was Annie. The cluster of people were blocking Miss No-sunshine’s way to the bathroom.

Poor guy looked scared out of his skin. Annie seemed like the kind of guy who trampled and ate people like him for breakfast.

“S-So sorry!” He apologized and squirmed. Jean could swear he saw drops of sweat forming at the back of his neck. And on his face. This guy was sweating a lot.

“Just move.” Annie commanded with the same tone as her previous order. But as Bertholdt stepped aside, Reiner stepped in to block her way.

“Now, now, is that really the best way to introduce yourself to your new classmates?”

Jean could see her fists clenching, and her glare was even more vicious than the one he previously saw earlier today. “I don’t care. I have to use the bathroom, and you’re blocking my way.”

Reiner’s confidence didn’t seem to budge at all. “Don’t be like that. We’re going to spend the next three years together, so why not try to get along with people.”

He smirked and tossed his bag over his shoulder as Annie continued to glare with such intensity that Jean for a moment thought that Annie would punch Reiner any second now. But instead, she pushed her hair out of her face and gritted her teeth.

“Hey, let’s keep this conversation sweet and docile. How  about you give us your name.”

“Annie.” Her anger level seemed to have dropped slightly. Perhaps because now she knew she would be able to continue on with whatever she was planning to do before Reiner stood in her way. “Now move, I heard your names when you introduced yourselves to this bunch a minute ago.”

Reiner moved aside as Annie marched through them, her eyes never faltering. He made a clicking sound with his tongue as he watched her leave. “What a sucky attitude that chick has. Looks like she’s never smiled in her life.” He adjusted his bag before bidding his good-byes in a cheerful manner and heading home for the day.

Bertholdt followed his friend with slumped shoulders and mumbled a “Good-bye” to his new classmates.

 

“Hey, Jean, we’ll be heading towards the cafeteria. Sasha says she’s hungry.” Connie had finally stopped hiding behind Sasha. Sasha slammed her locker and locked it before spinning around on her heels. “You coming with?”

Jean gaze dipped to the floor where Marco was crouching down by his, still carefully placing and sorting his books inside his locker.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later by the bikes.” He replied as he looked back up at them. Connie shrugged, and Sasha nodded before they both dawdled off to the cafeteria.

 

“You want help with that?” He asked once the duo was out of earshot.  

“I’m not really sure how you’d be able in helping me out with this, but your company is well appreciated.” He replied with a gentle tone.

Jean crouched down and looked at the small pile of books that belonged to Marco that had not yet made their way into his locker. “Sucks that you got bottom locker.”

“I didn’t.” Marko replied at Jean’s remark. “I switched with lockers with Reiner.”

Jean’s eyes widened with surprise, “Why?”

”He’s bigger than me, so he kept bumping into Sasha’s legs all the time. I offered to trade lockers with him so both he and Sasha would have an easier time whenever they both go to their lockers.”

 _‘Ugh, well aren’t you sweet as syrup.’_ He tilted his head to the side so he could see more of Marco as he neatly arranged his books in his locker. “But you’re taller than Sasha.” Eventually made it out of Jean’s mouth.

Marco paused and brushed some of his bangs to the side, “Yeah, but that’s Sasha’s locker, I can’t force her to switch lockers if she doesn’t want to.”

“You’re too kind to them. What have they done for you?” Jean sighed and leaned his back to the lockers as he listened to Marco chuckle.

“Haven’t you heard that you’re suppose to treat your friends with respect and kindness?” he peeked out of the locker and caught Jean’s eye. “Isn’t Sasha your friend?”

“Yeah, but…” Jean started off, but quickly halted himself. Of course she was his friend, but that was the thing, they’ve known each other for years. They knew each other’s likes and dislikes, what makes them tick, their daily routines, and so on. “I don’t take the word friend lightly.” He muttered. “There’s a distinct difference between friends, and acquaintances. Just because someone is a classmate doesn’t automatically make them a friend.”

There was a faint pained expression on Marco’s face. And then there was a silent between them. Neither of them seemed to want to continue on this subject, probably due to them not agreeing with each other. Footsteps from a small figure was heard as she passed by them. Jean glanced up at her, but she seemed fixated on leaving this building so she left without saying anything to the last two of her classmates by the locker. Her eyes fixated on the door that lead to the staircase to the ground floor. Finally after what had seemed like an eternity, Marco finally spoke up. “I’m done. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 _‘Shit. No, we can’t leave like this, or things might get stale in the future.’_ He knew he had to say something to brighten up Marco’s mood again, or he might feel inclined not to talk to him again. As he tried to figure out something to say, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Sasha and Connie heading their way. They were calling out his name, and the sound of them became louder as the distance between them closed in. Jean got up hastingly.

Now or never.

 

“I know where it is by the way.” His face was all serious as he blurted out the first thing that came into mind. Marco halted his movements and looked at him. “The beach, that is. So if you have a bike and don’t live too far away, then we could bike there together.” Jean said, feigning a confident smile

Marco blinked owlishly which sent waves of regret coming Jean’s way. He knew that acting on impulse usually turned out bad for him, so why did he continue to do that same mistake? Fortunately, Sasha and Connie backed him up, like tiny, stupid hype men. “Yeah, yeah, we know where it is! We went to camp there as kids during summer!”

Marco cocked his head to the side and gave them a toothy smile. “Yeah, sure, since you asked I’ll join you guys!”

Seeing his gentle smile made Jean feel warm inside. It was the first time in a long while since last time he felt that kind of blissfulness just from seeing someone smile.

 

They walked out of the school building together and Sasha and Connie walked ahead as they headed towards their bikes.

“My bike is on the other side of the parking.” Marco told him as he pointed over to the opposite side from where Sasha and Connie was standing. “Should we decide where and when we should meet up tomorrow?”

Jean suggested the crossing nearby where he lived. As it turns out, Marco lives in another area of Trost than them, so he would have to bike past their school on his way anyway. Much to Jean’s surprise though, he still didn’t back out due to that convenience.   

As the three were biking home they were experiencing a rare moment of silence in between them. He imagined that both of them had the same question in their heads, but didn’t know how to formulate that question without seeming rude.

 _“So why did you ask Marco to join us? I thought you hated meeting new people.”_ and different variations of that. Too bad that Jean didn’t know the answer himself, he would’ve loved to know why he felt so attached to Marco only after just meeting him and spending a few hours with him. It was as if he was drawn in to him after hearing him speak for the first time. After seeing him smile aimed towards him.

_“You sure seem to like Marco. Do you like like him?”_

_‘Ugh.’_ Warmth was spreading across his face when he thought of that.

Jean’s imagination sure was running wild today. That, or he was becoming paranoid. He’s not gay. He has had crushes on lots of girls before, (even Sasha, but he was taking that secret to the grave no matter what) so he knew what it was like to have a crush on someone. Connie’s loud yawn brought Jean back to reality, which in turn finally broke the silence between the friends and they started to talk about miscellaneous things until they reached Jean’s house. He said good-bye to the duo as they continued to bike towards their homes.

 

“Marco Bodt.” Jean read out loud to himself as he lied on his back in his bed. He  lazily read the numbers that together was Marco’s cellphone number.

Why did he agree on joining them in the first place?

Probably to make friends. But he would probably be able to make more friends if he joined the majority of classmates who would meet up in school first and then go by bus together. It sure was more convenient too, seeing as Marco would have to bike past their school anyway. In Jean’s head it sounded like he would have to bike quite the distance that day.   

There was lots of reasons to why  Marco could and probably should’ve turned their invitation down, so why did he agree to join them without even batting an eye?

 

_‘Why did you agree to join us in biking to the beach if you had to bike past school anyway to meet up with us?’_

Jean went to bed and imagined how that conversation would’ve gone in his head. Marco would probably replied with a smile and a cheerful “ _Because you guys asked me to!”_

 

Jean continued to imagine and play out other enjoyable, perfect scenarios in his head as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a bit different as it will play out over several days, finally speeding up the pace a bit.
> 
> Feedback is much appreciated, and please tell me if you find any errors so I can correct them.


	3. And the days kept rolling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of a slice of life chapter. It covers a total of 7 days, 4 shorter stories and two longer ones at the end.

From that day on, Jean and Marco was always together in school. They had the same courses, same interests and even if Jean had initially feared that his personality would drive Marco away, it didn’t.

Some other classmates thought that they were friends before they came to Trost Secondary School. Even Connie asked them if they were childhood friends from before Connie had moved to the area. The answer was no, but Jean certainly wished that it was true. If Marco had been with them earlier, Jean wouldn’t have felt so alone during the subject och activities that Connie and Sasha didn’t participate in. He always felt a bit lonely around those two as they shared the same interests, like soccer and running, while Jean had other interests like studying math and singing. His friends had tried to include them in their interest, convincing Jean to join the same soccer-team as Connie, much to his father’s approval. Jean didn’t like it very much, but atleast he got to spend some time with Connie outside of school.

The relationship with his friends had always made Jean feel like the third wheel before Marco. Now when he had Marco on his side, who was the fourth wheel, they were four people. A nice, even number. It felt balanced. No one would have to be alone.

Connie would joke about them having to come up with a new nickname for the group, since they were now the stupid duo and the jerk, plus one. Marco was too kind to join in on Jean as a jerk duo, and Marco wasn’t nearly as energetic and impulse (and stupid) as the stupid duo, so he couldn’t join them and become a trio. Jean didn’t care though. Marco was Marco, and he wouldn’t want him to be anyone else. They usually got refered as “The corner group” as they always sat together in a corner by the window.

“Compared to Jean, Marco is a freckled version of friggin’ Jesus.” Connie once said when the group as visiting the cafeteria. Jean had protested against that statement, even if he himself thought the exact same thing. That was one of his favourite things about Marco. His kindness and supportiveness.

“Aren’t you afraid of becoming other people’s doormat if you’re that nice to everyone you meet?” Jean later asked when he was waiting for Marco to fetch his books from his locker. They were waiting for Reiner and Sasha to fetch their books first, so Marco would be able to reach his locker more easily. It was that kind of behaviour that worried Jean. Being nice is good and all, but Marco was always nice and so he would always end up with the shortest stick.

“No, I don’t think anyone here would do something like that.” Marco smiled sheepishly, but Jean remained unconvinced. “I want to be able to believe in the best of every person, so I try to treat everyone as equally as possible. Even if I don’t really know or get along with that person.”

Jean folded his arms, and crooked his eyebrow. “ _Tch._ ” So self-sacrificial. Being a little selfish is healthy and good for you. He started to do a mental count up of all the times when waiting for Reiner and Sasha had led to them almost arriving late for class.

Marco tried to soothe Jean’s mood by giving him a warm smile. Sasha interrupted their conversation as she moved over to Jean’s side and grinned stupidly.

“Haven’t you heard that you’re supposed to treat people like how you would want to be treated back?” She leaned in closer and Jean could feel her breath on  his ear as she continued to talk, sending a shiver across his spine and shoulders. “I think if you were just a fraction of kind as Marco was, then you would be more tolerable by other people as well.” She was obviously this close to get a reaction from Jean.

“I am a kind person.” Jean said, as he shifted his position slightly to get further away from her. Sasha’s eyes became half-lidded and she raised one eyebrow in an almost comedic way. “It’s not my fault that you guys haven’t learned yet to speak fluent sarcasm.”

He scratched his ear and felt that his left ear was burning. Damn it, why did Sasha have to be so intrusive? She knew very well that Jean had quite a large personal space bubble when it came to physical contact, but that it was even larger when it came to physical contact with women.

“Ah, but wouldn’t the world be a bit boring if everyone was and thought the same?” Marco said as he got up and straightened his shirt. Jean wasn’t a fan of bright colours like orange and yellow, but somehow Marco managed to pull it off and actually look quite decent. Warm colours.

Sasha leaped forward and pinched Marco’s cheeks playfully as she let out a squeal. “I mean, just listen to this guy! He actually is a freckled Jesus!”

“Sasha, don’t touch people’s faces with those greasy fingers of yours.” Jean snapped at her. Marco gave them both a lopsided smile that was one of his guys-please-stop-fighting-smiles to make them both stop. Luckily, Connie had stepped in as he was tired of waiting for the others to finish up with their monkey business.

“Sasha, you can continue to spread knowledge about the church of Marco in the next recess. History starts in about 5.”

Sasha released Marco’s cheeks and the four of them made their way to the classroom. Jean walked next to Connie as they walked briskly through the corridor.

“Hey, what’s that scowl in your face for?” Connie asked.

He was scowling? Jean tried to steel his face after realizing that it was true, “Ah, nothing.”

Connie gave him an unsure look before he shrugged it off.

 

* * *

 

Trost Secondary School was infamous for having extreme freshman pranks, especially during the second week when the sophomores would return from their summer vacation and have two days were they would have to take care of a group of freshmen and show them around school as well as give them tips. But instead the sophomore would use theses two days to pull pranks and force the freshmen to pull stunts.

This had spun so out control that the number of applicants had sunk by 20%, and the number of freshman dropping out and switching to another school was at 15%. Knowing that added some more doubt in picking Trost Secondary School instead of SINA, but his doubts fell after reading those numbers had dropped since last year.

The school tried to combat that by removing those activity days with something they called Mentor hour. It was once a week where students from one program, for example Natural Science Program that Jean was in, were assigned to a group and would spend one hour together in a room. This group would be a mix of freshmen, sophomore and seniors that normally wouldn’t get a chance to bond because they don’t share any classes and don’t see each other so often. A teacher would always be present during this hour so the students don’t do anything that they aren’t suppose to do.

They said that building up friendships between one and other would make the pranks drop. Jean thought it sounded like a bunch of bullshit and apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought so. Attendance had been low, especially among the upperclassmen. So this year they decided to make attendance compulsory, even if you don’t get a grade for it. If you don’t attend mentor hour, your overall attendance in school will drop. Which in turn means you won’t be able to get any money for studying, and in the worst case scenario, you wouldn’t even be able to graduate.

What sucked even more was that Jean was in a group that didn’t have any interesting people in it. The only one whose name he knew in his group was Annie, and she wasn’t the most fun person to hang around with. But resigning to loneliness again didn’t quite allure him, so he tried to have conversations with her. They were usually short and abrupt, but at least she didn’t tell him to fuck off like she did to Reiner so he must’ve been doing something right. Annie was sometimes the one to start a conversation, which always surprised Jean. Seeing Annie talk to Jean must’ve made the other girl from class in the group courageous enough to approach both of them. Her name was Mina and she had nice black hair that was often tied up in pigtails. He’d usually compliment her hair whenever he saw that she was trying out a new hairstyle, making her return a happy smile at him. Aah, how he liked girls with long, dark hair. Jean didn't really have the courage to walk up to her outside of Mentor's hour though.

“It’s too bad we weren’t assigned to the same groups.” Marco said, his smile lacking the normal luster that it usually had. “Luckily it’s only for one hour every week. And from what I’ve heard, you don’t have to go there if there’s no teacher to check your attendance.”

Jean was leaning his back against Reiner’s locker, a habit that was starting to form whenever he was waiting for Marco to get his books out. An unfamiliar face passed them and crouched down next to Marco, unlocking her locker. She had freckles on her face as well, but she was lacking the gentleness that Marco had. Instead she had an intense glare on her face, almost similar one to certain girl in their class.

“Ah, hello, Ymir.” Marco greeted her with a smile. She paused her movements to look at him before saying “Yeah, whatever.” and continuing on with her business. Marco sighed, but still smiling. He got up after locking his locker and walked beside Jean. They could see how Sasha and Connie flung themselves into each other’s arms as they had involuntarily been separated for one hour.

Jean thought back on their introduction to Annie, and how this freckled chick seemed to have a similar attitude. How Marco’s body language was screaming how uncomfortable he was to have those half-lidded eyes on him “You sure seem to have luck with the ladies.”

Marco chuckled and scratched his right cheek. Jean’s eyes followed the freckled boy’s hand movement, making him take a mental note as he noticed that most of Marco’s freckles were scattered on his checks and not across his nose like where most people he had seen who had freckles. It made his freckles a bit more special. As if Marco wasn’t special enough, Jean kept thinking of things that made him even more special.

Jean didn’t mind though that Marco wasn’t popular among girls. In fact, he was quite happy that Marco wasn’t super popular among the girls in school. Why? He couldn’t pinpoint why. Not that it mattered much anyway. There were lots of things that Jean didn’t understand about Marco, and even more things that Jean couldn’t understand about himself.

 

* * *

 

Marco was so easy to work with as well. He seemed to get along with everyone, and always did his best when he had a task ahead of him. It felt nice and natural to work with him, and he always seemed to be able to get Jean on a better mood even on the most shittiest of days. Jean knew that he didn’t have exclusive rights to Marco, but it sure didn’t stop him from feeling slightly jealous whenever Marco was working together with another group that didn’t include Jean. He felt a lump of possessiveness shooting out needles of jealousy in his chest every time there was an assignment where you were going to work in pairs, or groups and other classmates. Reiner even commented at the death glare Jean was giving during those moments, causing Jean’s face heat up slightly. He wasn’t even aware that he was doing that, but because of that, his classmates had to approach both Jean and Marco if they wanted to work together with Marco. But Sasha and Connie were always sitting behind Jean, so they were always a group of four, ready to tackle on their assignments.

“I’m thinking of trying out a new sport at the recently opened dojo in town.”

Jean blinked a few times as he tried to process the words Marco just said. “ _Huh?_ ” That came out sounding too nasally according to Jean’s preference. That syllable always seemed to do that for Jean. Figures.

So far, Jean’s only heard of Marco being interested and enjoying team sports, like basketball, which Marco had practise for every Tuesday and Thursday evening. Jean had visited Marco a few times during practise, and he looked like he really liked it. In contrast of Jean when it came to his soccer practise, Jean felt like most of the times he went to practise because his father wanted him to play soccer. His dad and Connie. His dad would occasionally offer to drive him and the stupid duo out to a meadow where they could play soccer all day. Those days were fine because then he would be playing for fun with his friends. Not with stupid people who were talking big about how they were going to play professionally, even with the glaring statistic odds that were against them.

“Yeah, they opened a new dojo not too far from here.” Marco’s eyes seemed to almost sparkle of excitement, “I would like to try out something new!”

Jean let out a chuckle as he tilted his head to the side. Marco’s excitement seemed so genuine and innocent-like so even Jean couldn’t help but to become a bit excited as well. He had no idea on what sports they were practising at that dojo, but if Marco was going there it would certainly turn out being fun.

“What are you guys talking about?” Two large figures approached them. It was Reiner and Bertholdt. Much like Jean was always with his friends at every opportunity in school, those two were also always seen together. Unsurprisingly enough, they knew each other before starting at Trost. Jean had also seen those two at Marco’s basket practise. Guess he shouldn’t be so surprised that the three tallest people in class play basketball, it was still a bit odd that they all were in the same team though. It sparked the question in his head why Marco was hanging out with him.

“Marco wants to go to some newly-built dojo to try out a new sport.” Jean filled in for the two sport geeks in class.

Reiner’s eyes flashed. “That sounds like a great idea.” He smirked as he pulled a chair over to sit by Marco’s desk. “I’ve been itching to start going to another sport.” How this guy managed to balance so many sports on his free time and still have good grades in school was admirable. But Jean’s ego wouldn’t let him ever admit that.

Bertholdt quietly sat down on the empty chair that was next to Annie. He tried to greet her, but he was only met by silence as he squirmed in his seat. Pearls of sweat was visibly forming on his forehead.

“Hey, Sasha and Connie!” Jean turned around in his seat and called to them. “You interested in joining us?” From the looks of it, they had probably overheard the conversation and looked happy to be included and invited.

They both looked at him and rejoiced. “Sure, I think it sounds like a great idea!”

“Annie, you feel like joining us as well?”

She looked up from her book with a mildly surprised expression. It only lasted for a few seconds as her expression soon changed back to her normal one. “No, thanks. I’m good.” she said and retreated back into the book she was reading.

“You sure? Some exercise would do you some good.” Reiner pitched in. Jean thought to himself that Reiner should learn to keep his mouth shut instead of talking whenever it came to Annie, considering he had a knack in making her bring out her death-glare.

She let out a sigh of frustration, “I’m already busy on my free-time, so get off my back.”

The gang gathered together around Marco’s phone as they decided which sports to try out on which days the coming weeks.

The following Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays the group meet up outside the school building and headed out together to the dojo. It didn’t take long until Jean regretted to agree on this as his body seemed to ache and be even more sore as the days passed. Everyone seemed to be hooked on different things. On the last day of trying out a sport they were going to try out a sport that both Reiner and Marco were hyped up over. As everyone gathered in the dojo room for their first trial lesson they were greeted by a surprise. A familiar pair of half-lidded eyes with a deadpan expression entered the room. What was even more surprising was that she was wearing a proper gi, along with a blue belt tied across her waist.

“I’m here as a stand-in for one of the instructors.” She muttered as she averted her gaze from the group. Everyone’s mouth was hanging. So this was what she was talking about when she said she was busy. For some reason, Jean thought that she had originally lied when she told them that.

During the entire session, Annie seemed to have a smile on her face. Bertholdt was staring at her a lot during that two hour practise. Jean didn’t blame him though, considering Annie intimidated him, and now she was actually smiling for the first time towards her classmates. Her usual cold demeanor had been switched out to a more mentoring tough-love attitude towards her classmates in the dojo.

As that lesson came to an end, so did the weekend. The group sat together around Jean’s and Marco’s desks as they had done previously two weeks ago and discussed which sports they liked the most and if they were going to start training there. Reiner liked all the sports where he got to hit someone, and Bertholdt seemed to be more comfortable cutting through air than to have physical contact. Not that it mattered much anyway, since he was going to tag along with whatever Reiner was going to pick.

“I’m thinking of picking that last one.” Marco said. “Jujutsu, was it?”

Jean wrinkled his nose, “The more violent budo sport? I thought you were going to go with something more... softer?” _‘If any of those sports at all.’_

“Well, they seemed to have adjusted their style to how people actually attack you.” Jean knew Marco was referring to the Annie’s demonstrations and discussion about what was legal when it came to self defense. He had to admit that it did make it feel more practical than the other sports that were pretty much just talking about the traditions of the sport and its history. He glanced over at Annie. Her normal  expression and demeanor were back as she was out of her gi and the dojo.

“Guess you’re right.” Jean said and scratched his nose. If he would join Marco, then he would have an excuse to see him during the weekends too. “I’ll join you then.”

Though it wouldn’t make that much of a difference anyway, considering they hung out almost every weekend anyway.

 

* * *

 

Jean had thought he was quite obsessive about Marco the first day they met. He would laugh at those thoughts and worries now, because if he thought that was obsessive, he would have to invent a new word for how he was obsessing over Marco these days. At the middle of the term, Jean had started to have dreams where Marco would appear. The dreams mostly consisted of Marco being in the background or them hanging out or doing something together. It didn’t bother him that much, except for the fact that he rarely used to have dreams, or rather remember his dreams before he met Marco. Jean wasn’t so delusional that he thought dreams meant anything, but it was still bothering him a bit. He wasn’t a big fan of changes.

As the sounds of scraping chairs and murmurs from their classmates were filling the classroom after having their first lesson. Jean was still drifting in his thoughts that had been occupying his mind the entire morning. His freckled friend had once more visited him in his dream. The dream itself wasn’t anything spectacular, as it was mostly consisting of him and his classmates sitting in the cafeteria talking about grades and what they thought of school so far. Jean had flunked his math test in that dream. The feeling of disappointment and failure drowned him when he had opened his eyes, only to slowly wash away as he realized it was all a dream. That feeling was still biting him at the back of his head though.

“Hey, Jean…” Marco said with concern in his voice. He put his hand on Jean’s shoulder who was emptily starting out of the window. “Are you okay?”

“Ah, Marco…” Jean said tiredly, still not fully present. He closed his eyes and started to drift off once more. “I dreamt about you last night.”

Marco blinked owlishly as his cheeks started to turn pink. “Oh, Jean…!” Marco said lovingly, as if Jean’s words were a confession of love, and leaned on Jean’s shoulder, making Jean jolt back into reality. He tried to process why he had let that slip out and why Marco was so close to him. “Uh, I--” he stammered as the heat spread across his face. Marco didn’t budge.

“What!?” Both Sasha and Connie exclaimed, making the heat burn even warmer in his face. Marco was now nestling his head against Jean’s shoulder. Jean shifted his position so he could grab ahold of Marco’s shoulders with his hands. “M-Marco, stop that!” But Marco persisted. “ _Oh_ , _Jean!_  if only you’ve told me sooner!”

Mina, the blackhaired girl who had managed to befriend Annie turned around and gave them a sly smile. “I knew it!”

She had never previously spoken to Jean besides during mentor hour, so when she jumped in to the conversation, Jean halted his actions. “Wha--?” Great, his screaming had made people turn their heads towards the corner group. His head screamed out the words _“Why, why now!”_. Sasha and Connie was always loud in the corner, so why did his classmates have to turn their heads now.

“Mina is a fujoshi.” Annie said with a deadpan expression like always. Mina squealed and cupped her cheeks. He had no idea what it meant, but her expression said that she wasn’t denying it.

“What does that mean?” Connie asked. Jean had finally returned to his senses and realized his position. He continued to shake Marco’s shoulder to make him cut the crap.

“It means she likes seeing boys together.” Annie continued, now closing her book and turning around to join the conversation at Marco’s and Jean’s desks.

Connie looked confused, “What, like a fag hag?” he asked as he tilted his head to the side.

Sasha straighten her back as she slapped Connie across his back, “Oh my god, Connie!” she exclaimed as she threw her head back and let out a loud laugh.

“Huh?” Jean managed to get out and froze in place. No, she couldn’t possibly mean as a couple, right? His thoughts of panic came to an abrupt stop as he released a loud whelp when Marco moved his face to Jean’s neck and was now nuzzling against his neck. A scramble of random words and curses made it out of his mouth, but nothing coherent that could count as a proper sentence.

“She means in a boy on boy action.” Sasha said with a toothy grin as she leaned unto Marco’s desk with her elbows.

Jean felt that his brain was going to burnout from all the heat in his face and then explode in embarrassment. His mind was like a trainwreck, that not only derailed, but exploded several times, killing everyone onboard and causing tons containers containing highly concentrated panic mixed with embarrassment to leak all over his brain.

He finally managed to summon the physical and mental strength to push Marco away and form sentences. “I-It’s not anything like that! It was a normal dream and you just happened to be there!”

Mina started to boo, and everyone else was laughing. Even Annie was smiling which was quite rare, especially outside of the dojo. Jean’s eyes darted, looking at what expression everyone was doing. Taking several deep breaths as he was trying to calm himself down. His rationality, the fire brigade had arrived at the site of the trainwreck and was trying to get the situation under control. Jean was at a loss for words. He could feel his pulse in his ears as his blushing had reached all the way there. His heart galloped as his eyes locked on a smiling Marco.

“Hey, what’s with all the noise?” Reiner asked as he and Bertholdt joined them.

“Nothing!” Jean bursted out, a little too loud to convince them that it was nothing worthy of interest.

Everyone constantly pointing out how red Jean’s face was didn’t calm him down the slightest and he didn’t get a chance to calm down until the next lesson started. For the rest of the entire day he denied all requests asking him to tell them what his dreams were about. Sometimes during the day, Jean would think back on that incident in the morning. His throat would close up and he could feel his stomach flip.

That was the first time Marco had touched him aside from all the punches, kicks and limb-locking in the dojo. And he couldn’t understand why he felt so embarrassed over a guy touching him. Ugh, he’s probably just frustrated.

Hopefully.

Better hurry up in getting a girlfriend.

 

* * *

 

As winter was approaching at high speed, flu season had started. This was the time of year that Jean hated the most. There were small things that bugged him about this season, like classmates going to school when it’s so obvious they should’ve stayed at home so they wouldn’t rub off their cold on everyone else in school. Having to explain to his music teacher, Ludwig, that he couldn’t sing today because his throat was sore, and having to blow his nose but he either forgot or ran out of napkins that he brought with him from home and then having to resort to blowing his nose on the rough toilet paper in school that always made his nose a lot redder than it was before.

As annoying as those things are, there was something that was far worse. He hated to be at home and sick, because the days would go on so slowly, especially if he was really sick but the far worse thing with this season was when his friends were absent from school and Jean had to spend the day alone in that hellhole.

And then it happened. The first day Marco was absent from school.

Jean had received a text when he was waiting for Marco to show up in school. Marco had been coughing all week, and apparently he had left early yesterday during mentor hour. Reiner, who was in the same MH group, had told Jean when they met by the lockers after mentor’s hour. Jean sighed, contemplating on if he should drag a desk to where Connie and Sasha were sitting, or if he should sit alone and stare at the empty seat next to him. He decided to go with the first option since he didn’t want to be alone.

“Marco’s sick.” Jean told them. He was so obviously upset over this so the duo could write it all over his face and everyone would respond that they could already see that without the text. But he couldn’t find any reason to care, so he didn’t bother hiding it.

“Yeah, we know.” Connie replied as he flipped a few pages in the book in front of him. “Marco sent us a text as well.”

Of course he did. That guy was as sweet as syrup so it wouldn’t surprise him if he sent out a text to anyone who might be concerned about him. Jean drifted off in his thoughts occasionally as he couldn’t seem to focus properly that day. Connie nudged his elbows, making him snap back into reality.

“You okay man?” He asked with a furrowed brow.

Jean looked down at his paper and sighed. From what he could hear the teacher talk about now and from the notes he had written down, he had missed quite a lot. “I can’t seem to focus today.” He murmured, still staring down at his paper, pen not moving.

Connie leaned in closer and gave him a sympathetic smile “Hey, hey, come one man.” He then almost threw his arm around Jean’s shoulder and ruffled his hair. “I know we all have our off-days, but things aren’t any fun if our jerk actually is in a foul mood.”

Connie was right. Just because one of his friends were gone for the day, his other friends were still around. This was the first time since they started at Trost Secondary School where it had only been them three hanging out, just like the old days. He should try to enjoy this moment as he could relive some nostalgia even if it felt bittersweet without Marco. For the next lessons, Jean sat in between the stupid duo as both of they went on acting their merrily way. Though he did notice that they seemed to pay more attention to him than usual, Sasha drew smiley faces in Jean’s notebook among with some cute animals. The biggest give away though was when Sasha offered to share a sandwich she bought at the school cafeteria. Jean felt bad for making his friends worry about him.

After the last lesson, Jean sent Marco a text message as he waited for Reiner and Bertholdt to fetch their gym bags out of their lockers.  

_“We are going to work in groups for a biology assignment. We decided to include you in our group, hope that’s okay.”_

He noticed Annie was marching through the hallway with her gym bag as well. By the pace she was walking at, one would think that she was in a hurry, but Jean knew that she was probably heading towards the dojo as their stand-in instructor for today.

“Hey, Annie.” He called out to her. She tilted her head to the side while remaining eye-contact. “You could go with us to the dojo, you know. You don’t have to go alone.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but then she closed her mouth as she adjusted her bag. “It’s okay, I want to head there now so I can prepare in for today’s training. We’re short on instructors today, so I’m going to be there to instruct you together with another stand-in.” She pushed her bangs out of the way. Jean gave her a lackluster smile as his focus returned to his phone.

_“Of course! Thanks!”_

He threw his head back and let out a loud sigh. Could this day not end sooner?

And thank God it did.

 

_“Are you coming to school today?”_

Jean had sent a text message while he was waiting for Connie and Sasha to arrive on their bikes outside of his home. His phone vibrated as he had just put it away in his pocket.

_“Sorry! I’m still not feeling any well. Going to stay home for another day.”_

He groaned at his phone before writing a quick text back to Marco. He could hear Sasha’s voice yelling something in the background. Probably his name or a morning greeting.

_“Okay. Hope you get better soon.”_

Then he stuffed his phone away in his jacket as the stupid duo greeted him. This day he was determined to try harder to enjoy himself. If he didn’t even try it would be completely disrespectful against his other friends who were trying to make him happy.

Like the day before, he sat in between the duo during lessons. Oddly enough, it didn’t feel as draining to manage the two of them as it had been the day before. During English class they were going to sit in groups of five and discuss national news. Why? Who cares. Their English teacher was probably too lazy to think of any creative tasks for them to do. She was wandering around in the classroom listening in to what every group was talking about. She must’ve known that most groups would either talk or do other things until they saw that the teacher was approaching, but apparently caring enough to have proper lessons were in short supplies today amongst teachers.   
Since Annie and Mina sat in front of them, they simply turned around and started discussing. Midway he heard a question aimed towards him from a person in front of him.

“So, Marco still sick today?”

Jean looked up from his book. It was Mina who had asked him that question. Why would she care? Jean couldn’t remember seeing them talk outside of the classroom. He could feel himself getting a little irritated as the feelings of jealousy had formed in his stomach and was traveling up his spine. “Y-Yeah, why?” Ugh. Why did he have to stutter while saying that.

“Oh, no reason!” she said and gave him a shy smile before returning to reading the piece of paper the teacher had handed out earlier. Why was she...?

“You will have to ogle some other pair than your OTP, Mina.” Annie mumbled as she was also reading her copy of paper given out.

 _‘Ogle?’_ Jealously was now shooting out needles at his head. His eyes narrowed at her, “What?” he hissed, with a voice sounding more raspy than normal.

Mina’s jaw dropped. “I-It's nothing like that!” She waved her palms frantically in front of her as her cheeks visibly turned red. Her eyes were slammed shut and her blushing was spreading to her ears.

Sasha looked as if she wasn’t following what was happening at all. “What does OTP mean?” Mina was burying her face in her hands as she told them to stop and ignore what Annie had told them.

“It means one true pairing. Like a favourite couple.” Connie replied cooly.

Mina paused in her frantic blushing and opened her eyes. “How did you know that?”

Jean wasn’t following this girl talk at all. OTP? What? Pairings? Couples? What? “Wait, what are you guys talking about?”

“My ex-girlfriend used to talk about that kind of stuff a lot. What it means is that she thinks you and Marco makes the perfect pair, and she wishes you guys were together.”

Now it was Jean’s turn to be embarrassed and lose his ability to form proper sentences. “Huh? Wh-- Wait what!?”

Connie’s fingers walked across his desk to Jean’s desk, each hand imitating legs walking. “She thinks…” He paused and  then he moved his hands back to his desk. “You’d make a good pair.” His index fingers were moving back and forward, bumping into each other in a suggestive manner.

Getting what Connie was hinting at, Jean was losing his cool. He needed to get the upperhand in this argument. He quickly went through in his head all things Connie had said that he could use in an argument, then he decided to go with the first thing that entered his mind. “You mean your internet girlfriend?”

His insult seemed to have made a dent as Connie’s smirk has now turned into a frown. “So? Does it matter?” Connie’s hands formed into fists. Things seemed to turn to his favour and Jean decided to keep pushing this path. Fueled by this newly found self-confidence, Jean cupped his cheek and used his arm as support while flashing a grin.

“Having an internet girlfriend doesn’t count as having a real girlfriend.”

Connie’s face had started to twist, his knuckles were turning white. But then a wry smile formed in his face as he launched his counter-attack. “She’s more real than any girlfriend you’ll ever have. Considering the only relationship you’ll ever have is with your boyfr--”

Jean exploded out of his chair. “Why you little piece of shit, Springer..!”

“Hey, no fighting!” Sasha protested, trying to get in between her friends.

“Is the group in the corner discussing national news, or are you talking about other things?” Their English teacher’s words cut through the classroom, halting everyone’s movements in the group.

 _‘Shit.’_ Both of the boys sat down.

“W-we are!” Sasha stammered out. “We’re just re-enacting things so that Mina and Annie will understand!” Mina nodded eagerly, and Annie was wearing the same half-lidded, deadpan expression as always. Since she was so calm, she should be the one talking to the teacher. But she was probably secretly enjoying this too much to step in and take one for the team. Their teacher raised one eyebrow. Mina’s, Connie’s and Sasha’s nervous sweating was almost up to par with Bertholdt’s. Jean wouldn't be surprised if he was visibly sweating too.

“You know… Politics. Connie and Jean are just adding a bit more flare.”

Deciding to let it slide, their teacher shook her head and returned to listening to a discussion held by another group. Everyone in the corner let out a sigh. Though Connie wasn’t going to let this slide without having the last say. “You’re only this upset because you know it’s true.”

Once again, Jean shoot up from his chair like a rocket. “Do you fuckin’ wanna go, Springer!?”

“Bring it on, horseface!” Connie slammed his fists on his desk as he burst from his seat as well.

And that was the first time Jean had gotten sent out of class and detention at Trost Secondary School.

As Jean got home from the day, he marched to his room and threw himself on top of the bed. Now he had the weekend in front of him, for better or for worse. Marco was probably not going to show up for practise, but at least Jean wouldn’t have to go to school. Maybe his brain cells could recover from the damage he’d gotten from spending two days alone with the stupid duo.

He wanted to talk to Marco.

Jean took out his cellphone from his pocket and started to type a message. Then he suddenly recalled of his mother’s comment when his parents had seen his phone bills after the first few months. They were quite shocked from seeing the number increase so high since he started at Trost and asked who it was that he was texting so much. His father had asked him if he’d gotten himself a girlfriend, where Jean had blurted out that the only girl he texted was Sasha. His father had just nodded and said it was completely normal that teenagers turn their focus more towards their friends the older they got. Jean appreciated his father’s calm demeanor, but he got the feeling that he completely dismissed the statement that Sasha wasn’t his girlfriend. They had changed his phone subscription so he could send more texts to his friends per month without having to worry about it costing as much as a several hour long call to another continent.

_“I read in an article that people who text a lot usually feel more lonely than those who make more phone calls. You should try to call your friends more than sending texts.”_

He sighed and his head drooped to the side. Would that even be a good idea? Maybe Marco would appreciate if he called? He’d already used up all his free call minutes this month so Jean booted up his computer and saw that Marco was online on Skype. If Marco could sit by his computer, then perhaps he could handle a call?

But before Jean could press that call button, a stem pop-up window appeared.

_“yo horseface. let’s play a match. payback for making me get detention.”_

Then a window appeared in the middle of a screen prompting him to join Connie in a session of Counter Strike.

 _“Fine”_ Jean typed into the chat window, and drummed his fingers on the table as the game loaded. He sighed, and re-opened the Skype window on his second monitor. There was some muffled noises heard as the sound was getting adjusted.

A hoarse voice could be heard in from his headset. “Ah, hello?”

“Hey, sorry for calling, but I’m in the middle of things so I thought it would be more effective to call you.” He lied. He wasn’t really busy or anything, in fact the game had already loaded. “Uh, can you talk?”

A weak chuckle from the other side of the line. “Jean, I can see you’re playing Counter Strike.”

“Yeah, Connie wanted to play a match.” Today’s incident flew into his mind. Like hell he was going to tell Marco about what happened today. Jean was dicking around in the menus, content with making Connie wait and talk to Marco. “So what are you up to?”

“I’m watching some Syntax Error videos and drinking the last cup of cocoa that we have here.”

He tried to imagine a sick Marco curled in a chair drinking a cup of cocoa. “That sounds so cliché, are you seriously doing that?” That image made him smile more than he wanted too.

The sounds of Marco’s coughing filled Jean’s ears. “I’m sick, so watching some videos to kill time isn’t that bad. I think some of their videos can be really interesting, like the one when Hanji discussed game balancing via level design, or when Erwin talked about game production--”

“Those names don’t matter to me since I have no idea what Syntax Error is, or who those people are and frankly, I don’t care. I was refering to you drinking hot cocoa.” Jean interrupted him. Marco rambling on about those people made him lose the image he had in his head. That and the constant stream of small prompts on the corner of his monitors popping up as Connie kept asking him to join a match.

_“dude, you joining or what?”_

He joined the server Connie was on to stop the spam flowing from him. Jeez, couldn’t he tell that Jean was in no mood to playing a game? At least he had a reason to call Marco and not type-chat. The question was if itt worth having to deal with a hyped-up Connie. Yes, it was.

A high-pitched sneeze was heard, making Jean wonder if it really came from Marco or not. “Clichés are clichés for a reason.” Marco said and laughed, before going into a coughing fit that made Jean feel bad for harping at Marco about his taste. “Hot cocoa is delicious. I’ve been drinking it all day, but were out of cocoa powder now.”

Jean hadn’t moved an inch from the spawning point. Listening and talking to Marco was much more inviting than playing a game. “Then why not go and buy some more?”

An audible snivel was heard. “Maybe later. I can survive one evening without cocoa.” Then a mumbled “Sorry, gotta blow my nose…” followed by an audible thunk as Marco had probably removed his headset. Well, at least he knew that Marco really was sick and not skipping school. Not that he really doubted him in the first place. Jean had started to move around in the game as Connie had approached him and fired several shots at him, even if they were on the same team. It was a quite obvious international act in games meaning “hurry the fuck up”.

Then some muffled sounds were heard as Marco had returned. “There, I’m back. I found a small sample-size package of cocoa powder, so now I’m having another cup.”

“Jeez, how much of that stuff do you drink?” Jean couldn’t help but to chuckle over how the freckled boy seemed to love hot chocolate. They agreed on a lot of things, but when it came to hot beverages their tastes didn’t match. Drinking hot cocoa sounded so cliché and innocent, so it suited Marco’s image.

“Ah, well. A cup or so whenever it’s cold out to warm myself up.” He chuckled nervously on the other line, “A lot if I’m sick.”

He laughed through his nose. His character had died in CS and he was now waiting to respawn. Jean’s lack of commitment and enthusiasm bother Connie more than anyone else on the server. Probably because his half-assed playing could be mistaken as a beginner playing the game.

_“come on you piece of shit. Why aren’t you playing seriously?”_

Connie had noticed his lack of enthusiasm to play the game. Being honest with him was the most clear course of action.

_“Ye, sorry. Not really in the mood to play today.”_

He fiddled a scrap of paper as he watched the seconds tick down until the next match loaded. That would probably not satisfy him enough as Jean had previously taunted him about his stupid internet-girlfriend. Connie was rather touchy about that subject and hated it when Jean told him that having a relationship over the internet doesn’t count as the real deal.

_“well suck it up. You owe me.”_

_‘Fuck you, Connie.’_ Jean gritted his teeth, only to be surprised when Marco cleared his throat. That’s right, he was still in a call with Marco. Silently hoping that he didn’t swear in the call, he tried to think of another topic to talk about.

“Anyway, we got a bunch of papers for our biology assignment, do you want me to fill you in?”

“Yeah, sure. Hey, do you--” pause for a sneeze too cute to come from a guy and then followed by a not so cute snivel, “Do you have a scanner, or something so I can view the papers and start working?”

He did have a scanner, well, his dad did, and Jean knew how to use it. But...

“I have your papers here. I could swing by and drop them over at your place.”

“A-ah, that’s not really necessary…”

“It’s cool. It’s not like you live that far away. Besides…” Jean said and thought about what he could add to strengthen his argument.

_‘It would be nice to see you.’_

“I'm kinda in the mood to drink that type of cherry juice they sell at the supermarket near your place.”

He could hear a small gasp come from Marco. The silence made Jean squirm in his seat as he waited for a reply. While eagerly waiting, he tried to invest in some proper gaming as he awaited a reply from Marco.

“Ah, well, if you want to, then it’s fine I suppose. Just don’t feel like you have to come over because of me.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it.” Jean smiled and shot his nose up in the air, not bothering looking at the screen as he had gotten himself killed again. This time by Connie, who had jumped over to the other team. His team had lost with Jean being the player with the least score on his team.

“Come on Jean. Stop being such a fgt and play properly.”

His eye twitched as he read that last message from Connie. _‘Ugh.’_ If he had learned something new today about himself it would be that he didn’t like the idea of people thinking that Jean was gay.  

 _“Fuck you Springer.”_ Jean wrote before turning off his computer.

Jean decided to swing by the supermarket first so he could buy that cherry juice he lied about being in the mood for, hoping it would quell Marco’s guilt about having him bike over to his place to hand over a few papers. It’s not as if he hated cherry juice, it was delicious, but he lied about being in the mood for it. He continued to march down the aisles looking for one more thing. As he was browsing the shelves in the store, he felt his phone vibrate it his pocket. Thinking it could be from Marco, he picked up his phone right away to read the text. His mood dropped as he saw it was from Connie. It probably was a bunch of insults since Connie had this fixation to be the one to have delivered the last words in an argument, no matter what, even if he had been completely run over. After getting the all of the wares he was looking for, Jean had to wait in line before he could bike over to Marco’s place. He then remembered the text he gotten from Connie, and since he was waiting in line he had time to kill.

_“What’s the matter horseface? You all butthurt over all the buttfu--”_

Yeah, no. He wasn’t going to read that.

He packed his wares into two separate plastic bags that he later loaded on his bike and headed to Marco’s house.

Marco was the one to open the door. Even if Jean was happy to see him, it felt a little bittersweet to see him like that. He was paler than usual, with noticeable circles under his eyes and a pink nose. “Heh, sorry that you have to see me like this, but I didn't expect to meet anyone today.” A small package of tissues were poking out of his sweatpants’ pocket.

“Ah, do you want to come inside and warm up for a bit?” Marco said and stepped away from the door. “W-we don’t have to hang out for long in case you’re worried about to catching my cold, but…”

Jean stepped inside. “It’s fine Marco.” He said as he placed a hand on Marco’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about me so much. Come on, I can fill you in on all the things you missed in school.”

Marco blinked owlishly at Jean, before he closed the door. Jean lifted the plastic bag that he brought from the store. “Here’s some cocoa powder. Don’t know if it’s the brand you like, but hey, at least you get to drink some more of that tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow or whenever.”

“Y-you…” Marco started, eyes going wide, but he was forced to pause as he turned away to sneeze. He sniveled once more as he turned back to face Jean. “You bought this for me?”

“No, I bought it so you could make me some hot cocoa and convince me that it’s as great as you say it is.” Jean stated and pushed the bag towards Marco’s chest. Marco chuckled as he seemed to hug the package of hot cocoa.

“Ah...” Jean involuntarily let out as he saw what Marco was doing. _‘He’s acting too cute.’_

Jean followed Marco to the kitchen as he put the bag of cocoa powder on the counter. As Marco was taking out a cup from the cupboard, he paused and looked at Jean. “You wanted a cup as well, right?”

“Yeah, I can try some.” He cringed at Marco who was sniveling and sneezing in the kitchen. His head dropped,  "Someone as sick as you shouldn’t be in the kitchen.”

Marco tried to laugh, but his laughter was interrupted by a coughing fit. “I know, but who else is going to make the hot chocolate?”

Though Jean had insisted in helping, he was a bit unsure if his help even did anything. Marco gave him instructions in fetching all the utensils and ingredients that he needed, but finding things in someone else’s kitchen is like navigating a spaceship. It usually ended with Marco asking for something, Jean looking in the wrong place, and Marco fetching whatever he asked for himself. In the end, Jean had pulled a chair and sat down in near the counter and commented on the entire process.

“Why are you using water instead of milk?”

“Because milk makes you produce more mucus. You should know that since you’re a singer.”

“Why are you heating it on the stove, can’t you use the microwave?”

“Because I think it tastes better if you heat it on the stove.”

When he was finally done, Marco came over with two cups in hand and handed over one to Jean. “Here you go. Wanna sit on the couch instead?”

The living room at the Bodt household was quite spacious. The sofa were filled with cushions and folded up blankets. They were probably placed there for Marco so he wouldn’t have to sit holed-up in his room until he recovered. Jean took a seat in the sofa and pulled out some papers from his bag. “Right, here are your papers.” He placed them on the coffee table in front of him. Marco tiptoed forward and carefully sat down next to Jean.

Jean noted the distance between them. It was probably so Marco wouldn’t rub off his cold. He edged the papers closer to Marco so he would be able to read what it said on the paper as Jean started to fill him in on the assignment. Marco mostly nodded, sniveled, and squinted at the paper.

When Jean had finished in filling Marco in on the assignment, Marco sat curled up in the sofa with a blanket spread across his legs. It was quite a sight to see Marco like that, with an oversized knitted jumper and holding a cup of hot cocoa with both of his hands. He was now squinting even though he didn’t appear to be looking at any specific.

The tanned-haired boy sighed. He didn’t want to leave, but he knew that he probably should take his leave now. Marco was probably too nice to tell Jean that he wanted him to leave.   
“You look like you need some sleep. I should be going anyway.”

Marco whined weakly in protest. He turned his head, now squinting at Jean. “Probably. Still, it’s nice to have you over so I don’t really want you to leave.” With a clenched jaw, Marco sank further down in the sofa. He hid parts of his face as he pulled up the blanket.

Jean’s lips curled upwards after hearing Marco’s words. This new selfish side of Marco was refreshing to see. He quickly leaned over to ruffle his sick friend’s hair playfully.

“Get well soon, okay?”

“Mhmm.”

 

* * *

 

“Jean, are you going to perform at the christmas show?”

Jean looked up from the sheet of papers he was holding. “Hmm?” From where Marco was standing, it looked like a music sheet for a song. The lyrics were too difficult to read and looked like trails of ants crawling under the notes.

Marco took the seat next to Jean, moving his ankle over his other knee. “Ludwig said that freshmen can participate in performing during the christmas show that’s on the last day of school.”

The notes and the lyrics and the sheets of paper were difficult to read for Jean as well, since the school printer was running out of ink when the papers were printed. Not that it mattered much anyway. “Yeah, I know. I’m reading the lyrics of a song that a bunch of seniors wanted a male backup singer.”

Marco’s brows knitted into a frown, “Is that it?” His voice carried over a tone of disbelief, which made Jean want to apologize. Even if he had no idea for why Marco had that tone. Instead of an apology however, the only sound that escaped Jean’s throat was a syllable. “ _Huh?_ ”

Marco took a peek at the sheets of papers that Jean was holding, causing Jean to move the paper closer to his chest. Suddenly feeling defensive over his part of the show.

“Is that the only song you’ll sing in?” He said, almost glaring at the paper before lifting his gaze and edging closer to his friend. “Jean.”

“What?” He recoiled, thankful for not stammering it out.

“Why not sing as lead?” Marco casually suggested.

“H-Huh!?” He let out as he stumbled in his seat. Another surprise like that would most likely cause him to fall over.“Don’t be stupid, I’ve never done that before!”

Marco smiled and cocked his head. “Well, you have to start somewhere right?”

Him? Sing lead at his first school concert? Jean wasn’t even considering singing at the concert were it not for that freckled sophomore chick in Marco’s MH group had asked him if he could be a backup singer. “I don’t… Look, it’s not my thing, ok?”

“You have a great voice, Jean. Not everyone has that kind of talent.” It was a small smile on his face, but it had passion behind it. Though small, his smile was one of the brightest Jean had ever seen. “You should make use of all the talent you were given.” Those words had burrowed through his head and touched something that Jean couldn’t quite put his finger on. Doubt? No, not really. He felt inspired by Marco’s words but he was doubting himself too much to actually go through with it.

There was silence in between them. Jean sat at the edge of his seat, waiting for Marco to continue. “I think you should take this opportunity as you’ll never know when they’ll come again.” Expecting Marco’s smile start to curve downward, or turn into a lackluster smile, Jean broke eye-contact. He didn’t want to see Marco disappointed.

“Even if I were to do that, I don’t have any idea on where to begin.” He looked at his hands, and on the music sheets. This was probably the best he could do. Why be the reach-for-the-stars-guy, when he was already satisfied with what he had.

When his friend got up from his seat, Jean thought it was because he had given up on him. It wasn’t anything new though, Jean had been told over and over again to stop being so negative and just do whatever was in front of him.

“Pick a song, go to our teacher and tell him what song you would like to sing and which people you want there to perform with you.” Marco said with a calming and soothing voice as always.

Jean sighed. He made it sound so easy. But things weren’t never that easy. “Didn’t Ludwig say that it had to follow a certain theme, and--?” Marco placed his hand on Jean’s shoulder, causing Jean’s words to come to a halt.

“It’s a place to start.”

When his hand slipped off Jean’s shoulder, he couldn’t help but to miss the warmth Marco’s hand had provided. Marco turned his heel in place and was starting to walk towards the instrument room. But then as if he suddenly remembered, he snapped his fingers and spun around. “Ah, If you need anyone who can play guitar, preferably acoustic, then you know where to find me. Don’t forget that Reiner from our class also plays the drums and bass. I’m sure if you ask Sasha and Connie, they’ll happily perform with you even if they’ve just begun to learn to play instruments.”

Those words hit Jean like a ball of motivation that shoots up energy from his stomach and out his throat. He sprung out of his chair and flashed a grin. “Yeah, let’s fucking do it.”

 

The two of them sat down and went through their music library as they were trying to pick out a song. They were soon accompanied by the duo, and then finally Reiner. As they were lying on the floor with pillow’s stolen from the theatre room, Jean felt at peace. At the beginning of this school term, he was freaking out about feeling lonely and drifting apart from his best friends. Instead, he was still close to them, infact they were around him more than what he had thought they would be. He had even managed to make new friends, the most notable one being Marco.

Marco.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine how boring his life without those freckled cheeks and warm smile to greet him everyday. How stuck in his bubble he would still be. All of the new things he had tried out thanks to him thanks to him pulling Jean along on his adventures.  A pillow flew into the air and landed on his face, breaking him out of his musing. Not knowing from whom the pillow came from, Jean tossed it in a random direction, which turned out to be Marco. He in turn flashed a smile towards him which made Jean’s lips curve upwards.

One by one, they filled in names of different songs on a piece of paper while Connie’s phone speakers continued to blast out music. He felt a little sad over the fact that the first school term was coming to an end.

 

* * *

 

The winter holidays was a welcomed guest as it gave Jean a moment to breathe out and rest his head. The last couple of days before the holidays were incredibly stressful, with teacher cramming all of their tests in the same week, and all the rehearsals for the school concert. One thing he did miss though was seeing his friends daily. All sport practises were also on a break, so Jean had to listen to his family’s pleas and spend time with them.

Jean went to see his grandparents who lived near the mountains, so they went there every year to go skiing during the winter holidays. He loved those steep ski-slope as it almost felt like he was flying when he rocketed full speed downward. He was no adrenaline-junkie, but skiing and snowboarding was one of those things where he enjoyed doing crazy things and getting pumped on the adrenaline rush.

But he was finally coming back from his grandparents homes for New Year Eve. That had triggered a spam of text messages from Connie and Sasha. Which was fine since it was a 6 hour car drive back home. He even managed to get some breathing room in between texting the stupid duo, so he could handle texting back and forth with one more person. But before he’d even got to type the first letter of a new text, he had received a text from the exact same person he was thinking about texting.

_“Hi! I heard you're coming back in a few hours. What are you doing during New year’s eve? :)”_

That smiley at the end of the text made the corner of Jean’s mouth twitch.

_“The usual. Playing boardgames with Sasha and Connie while eating a lot of stuff. You wanna join us?”_

_‘Hmm... Perhaps I should’ve asked them first if it was okay if Marco could join.’_ Jean pondered, but his text to Connie got interrupted. Damn, how could Marco type so quick on his phone?

_“Sasha already invited me. That’s how I knew you were coming back soon. :)_

_Did you have fun skiing in the mountains?”_

Well that would spare the awkwardness in case they didn’t want to hang out with Marco.   
Jean spent the rest of the drive home typing text messages to his friends until his fingers were in danger of developing cramps and start to bleed all over his phone. His parents agreed on giving Jean a lift to Sasha’s house later on. They also told him to invite Connie and Marco to carpool with them.

“It’s too dangerous to bike during winter. I’ll drive you boys there.” His father had said as he adjusted the rear-view mirror for the sixteenth time this ride.

As soon as he got home, Jean jumped into the shower, having to lift his dog out of the way because for some reason she loved to take naps outside of the bathroom, ruining everyone’s day. He had no time to sweet talk his dog, Marco and Connie were coming over in less than half an hour, so he had to get ready.

“Come on, come on, move!” Shit. Their dog really needed to get more exercise.   
Or less food. Perhaps both. He locked the door after him and let the water run as he started to undress. A quick glance in the mirror revealed that he had gotten a slight tan from skiing day in and day out for two weeks. It was a bit embarrassing since you could see the marks from his skiing goggles that he had been wearing. He didn’t have enough time to cringe at himself in the mirror, so he jumped into the shower. No time to fully enjoy this shower either.

“Jean, don’t waste so much water! Aren’t you done yet?”

Jean let out a sigh of frustration. He really wasn’t in the mood for yelling back and forth. It never was the risk of getting more annoyed, but occasionally he couldn’t fight the need to explain himself to a non-listening parent.

As he opened the door, something was stopping the door. He growled at the lying figure who had taken a nap and was now looking at him with a stupid look in his face. Since glaring and jamming the door into her back didn’t do that trick, Jean snapped his finger and pointed to the living room. The large ball of white fluff got up with a groan and made it’s way to the living room. The missing member of the stupid trio.

10 minutes before his friend’s arrival, Jean had put on some new clothes and was walking around in the house with a towel on his head. He was trying to find all the boxes of the board games that he owned that they might want to play tonight.

“Jean! Your friend is here, hurry up!”

He peeked out of his room and saw Marco taking off his shoes in the hallway. “Hi, sorry I’m a bit early.” His entire face lightened up as their eyes met.

“Nah, it’s okay.” Jean said, and meant it wholeheartedly. He had missed seeing his friends while he was up in the mountains. Especially Marco.

Though he didn’t expect to be hugged by him, even less so did he expect the sudden physical contact to make all blood from his leg shoot up to his face. At least Marco wasn’t the only one with pink cheeks. The only difference was that Marco’s cheeks were pink due to the cold winter gnawing at his exposed skin, and Jean was blushing due to physical contact. He patted Marco’s back with an open palm and staggered back a few steps when Marco had let go. Jean then walked back to his room, signaling Marco to follow. It felt awkward to move along as his knees had locked and there was not enough blood in his legs to move properly.

Once he got to sit down his body returned to normal and the two friends started to catch up. Marco had been home these two weeks, mostly studying and spending time with his family.

“This is actually the first time I spend New Year’s Eve together with friends instead of with my family.”

Jean was a bit surprised. Considering how well-liked Marco seemed in school he had expected him to have a bunch of friends. But he was almost always available whenever Jean asked if they could hang out, and this was the first time during the winter holiday when he had actually left the house to socialize. A feeling of relief spread through his body, but it quickly warped into concern as the realization of the reason to why he felt relief was because of his possessiveness. Connie arrived about 8 minutes after Marco, just in time to the agreed time.

Jean rode in the front next to his dad, who was currently adjusting the rear-view mirror like usual. He always wondered why he had to constantly adjust it. His dad was the only one who could drive in his family, so he was the only one who touched the mirror. He made small-talk with his friends during the short 10-minute drive to Sasha’s house.

“You boys should join us when we go skiing next winter.” Jean’s father said as he drove up the empty driveway outside Sasha’s house. That meant they had the house to themselves. Nice. “Jean, you can bring your girlfriend too.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Jean reflected the statement as he exited the car.

He could see a ponytail bouncing up and down at the frontdoor. Sasha had popped out from her house and was waving excitedly at her friend’s arrival. Connie sprung out of the car and initialized their handshake. Marco chuckled his breath could be seen as small vapour clouds. His freckles were still visible in the low light. He suddenly got talked by an enthusiastic Sasha who had flung her arms across his shoulder, triggering the same reaction as Jean had previously had in his home. This caused his other friend’s to laugh. Ugh. How could they laugh at his misery? It was probably this kind of reaction which made his father not believe him whenever he said he didn’t have a girlfriend.

Inside the cozy home of Sasha, she had prepared the living room so they would have a comfortable and fun evening. There were lit candles and pillows everywhere in the living room. The sweet smell of chocolate was thick in the room. He glanced over at Marco to see his expression he was having or if he even noticed the smell. He most certainly had, because Marco looked like he did when Jean made him a cup of hot chocolate at his place. A innocent and toothy smile, with a shade of pink spread across his freckles. It was bordering on dangerously adorable for a guy.

The ponytailed had prepared chocolate fondue, and with Marco’s love for chocolate, he was actually quite on par with Sasha’s eating. They quickly reviewed what games that had and in which order they would play them. They decided to start out with a game of Settlers of Catan and then some Munchkin.

 

“Come on, Jean! Try out some of these fruits!” Sasha bounced up-and-down while waiting for her turn. Jean’s forehead puckered as he tried to think of what he should do with all the treasures he gained this turn.

“Nah, thanks. They look weird.” He responded as discarded a few cards so his turn could end. Seeing how she was pouting at his response, Jean let out a sigh. “Look at it like this instead, there’s more food over for you.” He nodded at Connie, who then began his turn. Her lips pursed, unsure if she should accept Jean’s answer. That was the usual line he used whenever Sasha was offering him food whenever he didn’t feel like eating.

Marco came to her defence as a knight in shining armour. “I think you should try it out, Jean. Trying out new kinds of food is exciting. Besides, Sasha must’ve put a lot of thought and work into preparing everything for us this evening, including getting all this food.”

Jean cast Marco a “Really?”-look before returning to his cards. Adjusting the pillow he was sitting on, Jean placed his hand of cards facedown. “I don’t want to get my hands sticky when we’re playing.” That was partially the truth. Jean hated the feeling of having sticky hands, but he wasn’t really a big fan of sweet fruits anyway.

Marco placed his cards on the floor and stretched for a piece of fruit. “Fine then, I’ll feed you.” Before Jean even had the chance to react, Marco had already shuffled closer and was holding a piece of fruit dipped in chocolate against his face. This wasn’t the type of behaviour that guy friends should have.

“M-Marco, what the hell!?” His mind had been wiped clean and he was a stuttering mess. Marco was persistent though, and had placed his free hand on Jean’s thigh to steady himself and prevent his reluctant friend from squirming away. In a mixture of embarrassment, Jean managed to get away but not without getting hit by the unknown fruit in his face. Both of the boys froze. Once they both had processed what had happened, they both snorted. Jean then removed the piece of fruit on his chin. This triggered Marco’s signature cheerful laugh.

“Sorry, you got some chocolate on you. Stay still and I’ll wipe it off you.” He reached for a napkin on the table and started to wipe Jean’s cheek. Marco’s eyes suddenly widened and his face moved in closer to Jean’s and the panic started to return as no-one had really entered that bubble of his personal space. “Oh, did you get a tan while you were skiing?” His finger traced the line where Jean’s tan was visible. _Choo choo!_ The train in Jean's head was close to derail and kill countless of innocents with tons of explosions.

“S-Seriously, Marco! Cut that shit out!” Jean pushed his friend away. It felt like his stomach was filled with butterflies that were desperately trying to get out as his stomach was being twisted. He was able to feel his pulse throb in his ears.

“Ah, what a waste of chocolate…” Sasha said with slumped shoulders. Connie gave her a sympathetic pat on her back.

“Don’t worry, we can open a new package of chocolate for you.” He rearranged his cards in his hand. Then suddenly he cracked a smile that grew wider as he looked up from his cards. “Or, you know, you can clean Jean up.”

Everyone froze up, and Connie was grinning even wider than before. “You know, he still have small spot left on his cheek?” There were no words coming from anyone in the room. Only the sounds from the clock and Connie’s snicker was heard. Then suddenly, Sasha’s eyes locked on Jean. The movement made Sasha her the main interest in the room.

“A-Ah, i-is it my turn yet?” she stammered out, her face glowing red. Then she laughed nervously as she tried to lighten the mood in the room. The game then awkwardly continued on until Connie burst out something about Jean cheating, making everything turn back to normal.

 

“It’s almost midnight.” Sasha said as she stared at the wallclock over the TV. “You guys wanna head outside soon to see the neighbours shoot some fireworks?”

Marco looked up at the clock as well. “Sure. Where will we be standing?”

It was a good time to stop playing anyway since Connie and Jean had just accomplished to win jointly. Connie let out a loud yawn as he stretched his arms up in the air. Jean was collecting and sorting all the cards as they were going to head outside.

“Oh, the balcony.” She said and pointed upwards. “I already prepared some glasses and drink upstairs.” Sasha rose from the floor and stretched her back. The rest of the gang followed her move.

“Non-alcohol, right?...” Marco asked meekly with an equally meek expression on his face.

“Of course we’re not drinking any alcohol!” Connie butted in and cracked his knuckles, causing Marco to flinch slightly. Connie was a master at cracking his joints and he also knew how to make them sound really loud and uncomfortable. “We’re minors! But when we’re old enough we’ll drink the real deal.”

Jean looked at his short friend with disbelief written all over his face. “Why? I think alcohol tastes like shit.”

“Because it’s tradition.” He had finally stopped cracking his fingers and was now moving on to cracking his back and neck. This time Jean grimaced as well. “Just like coming up with resolutions for the next year and exchanging kissing at the precise moment when the clock hits midnight.”

“Why do you keep insisting on bringing those tradition here?” His face was still stuck in a grimace.

Connie sighed and gave Jean a stupor look. “Like I said, because it’s tradition.”

“It doesn’t make it any less stupid.” He folded his arms and straightened his back. Marco gave him a worried look as he didn’t want this to turn into a dispute. Arguments with Connie were rarely serious, they had never escalated into violence and was mostly just to provoke a reaction from the other person. Something that Connie had become an expert at since he could always exploit a recently discovered weak point in Jean’s defences.

“It should be fine kissing this year though, now when you can kiss Ma--” That one.

Jean took a step forward and pointed his finger at Connie’s stupid, reflective forehead. Grabbing his collar and headbutting him sure was inviting. “Springer, I will kill you if you say any of that shit in front of Marco!” Jean cut in.

Marco blinked owlishly. He still hadn’t heard about the whole “shipping” incident in school, and if it was up to Jean, he would never, ever, find out about it.

“Oh, yeah! Isn’t it tradition from where you come from to day what you’re thankful for too?” Sasha chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. Marco’s expression had now turned into a narrow, yet playful look as he was looking at Jean to get answers. ‘No, Marco. Just. No.’

Connie was now directing his attention to Sasha. “No, that’s Thanksgiving in the US, you’re so far off that you’re guessing the wrong continent!” She shrugged and then suggested that they head upstairs. It was already common knowledge that Sasha’s geography knowledge was usually off.

“Anyways, let’s go upstairs. Oh, and bring your jackets and shoes.” She said and headed out to the hallway to fetch her shoes. The rest of the gang followed her. Jean went to grab his jacket first and was then accompanied by Sasha, who stretched past him to get her jacket. He lifted her jacket off the hook and gave it to her.

“Here you go.” He said, as he handed it over to her.

“Thanks!” She said and put it on.

He bent down to grab his shoes and once he had them, he backed out from the shoe-corner so his friends would be able to fetch their shoes. While Connie and Marco were fetching their stuff, Jean and Sasha headed up the stairs to go to the balcony.

“Aren’t you going to be cold walking out like that?” He asked, referring to her wearing a skirt.

She smiled and continued walking up the stairs. “It’s fine. These stockings are actually pretty foddered. Worst case scenario, I’ll head inside and put some pants over real quick.”

 

Out on the balcony Sasha had prepared four seats and two small tables with glasses and large soda bottles on them. There was also a small cartoonbox filled with sparklers and a lighter. The stupid duo immediately lit some sparklers and started to run around with them.

Jean was looking at the brightly coloured flames and sparks that flew from the sparkler he was holding. They were too young to buy proper fireworks, and since they were alone anyway there was no way they were going to be able to fire off those rockets without someone getting hurt. Connie had  babbled  on about how they should fire rockets on their own once they were old enough because that was as well was tradition. How they were going to learn how to do it hadn’t crossed his mind. He then said that he could ask his parents about it since his parents always bought lots of fireworks every new year.

Sasha and Connie were on the other side of the balcony, drawing different patterns with their sparklers. They were their usual enthusiastic way, hopping around and cheering loudly while Marco and Jean were sitting down, not exchanging any word between them. It was nice though, to be able to just enjoy the moment together with his friends in the quiet half of the balcony.

“I’m thankful that I got to meet you, Jean.” Marco suddenly spoke up. Jean’s head snapped to the side as he stared at his friend with widen eyes.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” The stupid duo’s cheers could be heard in the background, along with the bursts of some early fireworks being fired into the night sky.

“When you guys were talking about traditions it made me think. Even though the tradition Sasha was talking about wasn’t a New Year’s tradition, it was the one that made me reflect over this year the most.” He paused as the sparkler in his hand had burned out. He put it on the side in the snow and then turned to face Jean again. “My time at Trost has been wonderful so far, and you’re a huge part of that. I’m happy we’re friends. So thank you, Jean.”

Jean looked at Marco’s face as it was being tinted with the colours of the fireworks burst of light. Still in shock after hearing this words from Marco, Jean couldn’t think of anything to say. The same words of gratitude that were lingering in his mind every time he thought about how happy he was and had been these few months. But amongst those words were also questions rooted in his mind that had been watered by Jean’s flaky self-esteem and fear of being lonely.

_‘Why am I your friend? You’re too good to me. I don’t deserve it.’_

He brushed those thoughts aside and focused on the more positive thoughts. “I’m happy about that too.” Jean could feel Marco's eyes on him, but he felt too awkward to look at him. He wasn't used to talking about things like this. “Thanks, Marco. I’m happy we’re friends.”

Jean continued to stare at the bright sparks in front of him as silence once again fell upon them. The number of fireworks in the sky had steadily increased as the the clock was soon approaching midnight. Marco had edged closer so he could reach for another sparkler. Their eyes met, and he gave him a “sorry”-look as he stretched over Jean so he could get a new sparkler. He then sat down again with a soft thud and lit the sparkler. Their shoulders were brushing against each other with every movement one of them made.

Jean’s eyes were now fixated on his friend’s hands. Marco was holding the sparkler upside-down, so the light was traveling upwards, instead of downward. How he was holding the sparkler like that without burning himself was a wonder. And then as if on cue, Marco re-adjusted his his grip so the flame was burning downward.

_‘Why am I so attached to Marco?’_

He had been wondering that since day one. On Jean’s side of the story, their friendship had begun after Jean felt an odd connection between. Something pulled him towards him, his thoughts and movements would unconsciously lead him toward Marco. Was it his loneliness that edged him towards the kindest person he now knows.

Did it even matter in the end?

Marco’s in his life now, and he’s incredibly grateful for that. Whatever it was that made Jean want to befriend Marco had led to him becoming happier.

“Can you think of something more you’re thankful for, Jean?”

“Yeah.” Jean replied and put his dying sparkler in the snow. It was still glowing but it wasn’t shooting any more sparks, so Jean decided it was time for that sparkler to retire in the snow. “I’m thankful that I’ve started to come to terms of liking parts of me that I don’t fully understand myself.”

Marco blinked owlishly. “Like what?”

Jean gave him a sad smile. He didn’t feel ready to share those thoughts and feelings with him just yet. “Like my courage, and my --”

“Sexuality.” Connie cut in. Sasha spat out her drink and tried to hide the fact that she was laughing.

And with that the moment was gone. “Springer, do you wanna fucking go? I’ll ram a bunch of these sparklers up your ass!” Jean shoot up from his seat and grabbed a handful of sparklers.

“Guys, no fighting! It’s almost midnight!” She hopped in between them and waved her hands at them frantically. “You don't want to start the new year with a fight.”

Marco slowly got up from his seat and joined the rest of the group in the middle of the balcony. “It feels like I missed something. Can somebody tell me what’s going on?”

“W-We should start counting in the year!” Jean dropped his threats and tried to change the topic. Sasha scurried to the table where hers and Connie’s glasses were and  refilled them so they could  toast for the new year. Marco decided to help out by fetching his and Jean’s glass.

Sasha’s neighbours could then be heard screaming out a countdown for the next year. She then too decided to join them, screaming out numbers at the top of her lungs. Connie then excitedly followed her lead, trying to outshout her. Then Marco as well joined in, he was screaming too and nudging Jean to join in on the fun. He decided to eventually do so too, but not fully as crazy as the rest of his friends.

“ _Three!_ ”

“ _Two!_ ”

“ _One!_ ”

“ ** _Happy New Year!_** ”

They toasted and exchanged hugs while clearing their throats and coughing from screaming too hard.

And so the days kept rolling by and the first term had come to an end. And so had the year.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys think I should split this chapter into two parts? The two chapters before this one was about 3000-5000 words. This one is 14000 :I
> 
> I really enjoyed writing the fluffy parts of this chapter. I swear, this shipping will be the end of me.
> 
> And what's this about Syntax Error? An idea for a future fanfic. But that's for the future.
> 
> Also next chapter is where I bump up the T+ rating to M/E, if you catch my drift. Huehuehue.
> 
> As before, feedback and comments are loved.


	4. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spring approaches in a high velocity and the joyous days seems to be never ending.  
> But then something happens that turn things sour for Marco.
> 
> This chapter is being told from Marco's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the rating to M now. For reasons of some of the content below.

The days were going by so fast.

Marco had truly enjoyed his time here at Trost Secondary School, and he could not be happier over his decision to go here instead of SINA. Sometimes he would ponder over how different his life would be if he had picked SINA, or if he didn't connect with Jean during the first day. What if he hadn’t moved from his old home and continued to attend to school in Jinae?

Trost wasn't his initial dream, but his friends had made it into a wonderful present to live in.

The days had blown past them and it was already Valentine’s day. No one of his friends had a significant other, and the thought of having one hadn’t really weighed any interest in Marco’s mind. Both Jean and Connie had been talking about how wonderful it would be to receive chocolate from a cute girl. Sasha rambled on about different kinds of chocolate, seemingly more interested in the gift itself rather than who or why she would receive it. Marco didn’t particularly care, he didn't wish for it, but receiving some would be nice. Chocolate tasted so nice. It was most likely to be chocolate given from girls that they were friends with. Or “pity chocolate” as Jean had put it. Suppose it was common for all teens to want to have that special someone on their side. Marco was satisfied with his current situation, in fact, he didn’t want anything to change.

The three of them had all pitched in together and bought some chocolate for Sasha. Marco had also bought some extra chocolate to give in case someone would gift him some unexpectedly. Which did occur right before it was time for mentor hour.

He didn't know her name, but he had seen her before. She was from another program, but had peeked her head in during music class. Connie had told him that “chicks dig guys who can play instruments, especially those who could sing, play guitar, and/or piano”. Connie had nudged him on his ribs, almost causing him to drop his guitar as Marco thought it felt ticklish. He thought nothing of Connie’s hypothesis at first, but after he started to see her standing there, looking at him, every week… She had probably become infatuated with Marco after seeing him perform at the school concert. Jean had overheard this and asked why he hadn’t been approached by any girls. When he received the reply that it was probably due to lack of interest Jean looked as if he has lost all faith in humanity. Marco had been there to offer the poor guy a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

So there he was, receiving chocolate from a girl that might, or might not, be smitten with him. Marco wasn't sure if giving chocolate back to the girl would seem appropriate since they didn't really know each other, and doing so would clearly give the message that the chocolate he would give was prepared before hand to be able to give out to anyone. No, he decided and kept the the chocolate he bought for himself.  He accepted the girl’s chocolate, asked for her name, and then she scurried off.

Jean had been standing next to him during the exchange. When Marco looked at his friend, he could tell that something was wrong. Jean looked sour. Arms crossed, brows knitted a frown and his bottom lip was pouting slightly. Marco guessed that it was due to the chocolate he just received and the green-eyed-monster had dropped by Jean for a visit.

“You okay, Jean?” He asked, even if he knew what the answer was going to be.

“ _Tch_. Yeah, I'm fine.” Jean replied with a frown on his face and uncrossed his arms just so he could cross them again. _‘Of course you are.’_

Jean looked almost identical to what Marco’s sister looked like when she had counted the gifts under the tree last Christmas and realized that Marco had gotten more gifts than her. Marco had to admit that she was a little spoiled, but he didn’t have the heart to scold her if she hadn’t done anything. It would be unfair if Marco had received more gifts from his family than his sister, but the reason to why he had more gifts than his sister was because he had also received gifts from his friends. Perhaps he should’ve hidden the gifts he received from his friends.

Marco would’ve probably kept quiet about receiving chocolate from someone. But since Jean saw the entire event, keeping quiet and playing it off as nothing might cause Jean’s jealousy to spike even further. Maybe...

“I have some spare chocolate, if you want some?” Marco reached for his bag to fetch some chocolate for his friend.

Jean widened his eyes in surprise. “What, no.” He took a step back and furrowed his eyebrows further. “I can’t accept chocolate from a guy.”

Marco let out a light heartfelt laughter. He never really understood why Jean was so fixated on that norm. By this point he already knew that it was one of Jean’s triggers, the easiest button for Connie to press to get a reaction out of him. He didn’t know the story behind it, but it was easy to tell that Jean had some insecurities about it.

“You can pretend that it’s the chocolate Sasha said she had bought for you. Since she ate all of the chocolate she was planning to give us.” Marco smiled and pulled out a package of chocolate from his bag.

Jean’s expression softened up. He was now eyeing the chocolate, looking as if he was considering accepting it. Marco gave him a warm smile and reached out with the chocolate so Jean could accept it.

“I… Fine. Since you’re so pushy about it.” Jean grabbed the chocolate from Marco’s hands, still looking slightly conflicted. “It’s rude anyways to reject gifts.”

Marco chuckled over Jean’s reluctance over a piece of candy. They then continued to walk together until they had to split up due to them being in separate groups. He still had a few more chocolates in his bag that would probably remain in his keep since there was only one hour left of school. Perhaps he could share some chocolate with the people in his MH group?   
Marco made a mental note to himself to give some chocolate to Connie as well so he wouldn’t feel left out.

Mentor hour was usually bearable due to Reiner being in the same group as him. The rest of the group weren’t really interested in socializing, and their teacher was always busy with something else. He’d usually use the this time to grade papers instead of thinking up activities for the students. Marco didn’t blame him though. Teachers already had it tough enough, not being appreciated or shown the amount of respect they deserved from the majority of students. They were expected to continue to work at home, reading and grading papers, without getting any compensation for it.

As Marco and Reiner were eating some of Marco’s reserve chocolate, Reiner decided to try to make the loner of the group join them in a conversation.

“Oi, Ymir!” He called out to the girl and waved. The girl responded with a “ugh-not-you”-glare and then continued on with her business. Normally, most people would let her be after receiving such a response. But not Reiner. He pulled Marco by his arm and walked up to Ymir. Marco reluctantly followed, he was no match against Reiner’s strength but he didn’t want to disturb Ymir.

“What do you want?” Ymir asked, looking up from her phone. Her eyebrows knitted into a frown once again.

“It’s mentor hour, which is meant for us to socialize with each other. So you should sit by yourself with your phone.”

Reiner certainly was pushy, this made Marco understand Bertholdt was always looking as if he was somewhere where he didn’t want to be. In Reiner’s defence though, he had probably become this pushy due to Bertholdt’s lack of confidence, and he really needed someone who would drag and push him around in order to do things. But Marco didn’t need that, so he certainly felt out of his element when he was forced to approach someone who so obviously wanted to be left alone.

“Oh, my god.” Ymir said and threw her head back in frustration. “No one cares. Sorry that I don’t feel like hanging out with you and your buddy-bud over here and bond over the campfire.”

“Why are you on your phone anyway? What’s more important than making friends with the people currently around you?” Marco really wanted to drag Reiner back to where they were sitting earlier. Being forced into this situation made him really understand what it was like for poor Bertholdt. This was probably the source and cause of his sweating habits.

Figuring that Reiner wouldn’t leave her alone until she had answered all questions that he had, she sighed and told him. “Making plans for Valentine’s day.”

Reiner grinned and straightened his back. “Someone like you have a boyfriend?”

Marco flinched and gave Reiner a nudge. “Reiner!...” That comment was really unnecessary.

“No.” Ymir calmly replied. All of her previous irritation had seem to been washed away. “Someone like me has a girlfriend.” She cooly showed them the picture she had as a wallpaper on her phone.

It was a picture of Ymir with her girlfriend at a concert. They were both posing playfully with an arm around each other and was smiling at the camera. Ymir was sticking her tongue out and doing a victory sign. The other girl was mimicking Ymir, but was instead showing a toothy grin.

Reiner was smiling at the picture. Eventually he straightened his back once more and had thought of something new to say. “Yeah, I thought so. Seems like we have some things in common.”

Ymir sighed and turned back to her phone. “Ugh. Seriously? You’re going with the typical sleazeball answer that’s _hurrr, we both like women?_ ” Her mimicking of Reiner's voice sounded like a mix of her being super constipated and trying to go as low in tone range as she possibly could. Marco couldn't prevent a smile from showing up on his face after hearing that.

“No, I was hinting at something else.” He replied confidently, appearingly not caring at all of Ymir's mockery.

Marco blinked owlishly at Reiner. What was he talking about?

“Well, congratu-fucking-lations, do you want to start a club, or what?” Ymir responded with a sarcastic tone and put her feet up on the table. She must’ve noticed that Marco was looking at them both with confused eyes as she now for the first time today directed her attention towards him. “What are you looking at, freckles? Do you want to join the club?”

“Huh? I-- No...?” Marco didn’t quite understand why Ymir had decided on that nickname for Marco since she also had freckles.

“Then find someone else to stare at.”

He walked back to their previous spot together with Reiner and continued to eat chocolate. Reiner was talking about something that Marco couldn’t quite get into as his thoughts were still wrapped up in what had just happened. Wait, was Reiner insinuating that he’s...?

Oh. _Oh._

Marco had never had someone tell what their sexuality was to him. He was also surprised over how those two had openly revealed their sexualities like they were talking about the weather. Someone’s sexuality was something no one said straight out but insinuated at, much like Jean saying how he likes girls with long hair and Connie talking about his ex-girlfriend. It had always been whispers among his friends, guessing or accusing someone based upon their actions and rumours. He had always disliked that people did things like that. Did it matter anyway? Just because someone was different doesn’t mean that you should whisper and spread rumours about them.

But this was straightforward and casual. Nothing like the horror and dramatic stories he had read about where people had come out to their parents or their friends, and been disowned, rejected, alone.

So when the thought once crossed Marco’s mind that he might not be as normal as he thought he was, he was scared.

Scared of being disowned, rejected, alone.

His fears has since then been qualmed as it turned out to be nothing. Before his teens he had told his mother that he didn’t seem to have any interest in either girls or boys, and that he was scared that something might be wrong with him. His mother had gently patted his head and stroke his cheek as she softly told him that there was nothing wrong with him.

“Some things take longer time for others, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

But there he was, still disinterested in both genders, something that was out of the norm but not really discussed. Either you liked one, or both. He hadn’t heard of someone not being interested in either. Jean, who Marco considered his best friend, was always concerned about following the norms laid out to him and then there’s these two, who just told each other that was considering to be out of the norm.  Without even batting an eye. They weren’t even close to each other. And they didn’t seem to be worried about anyone else hearing.

He was amazed and in awe. It was silly, he knew that, but he couldn’t help it. With just those sentences, they had shattered his reality and showed him a side that he didn’t even consider existed.

Later on when he meet Jean he was holding a box that contained what looked like thin bread sticks dipped in chocolate. He had a huge smile on his face.

“Hey, check it!” He said and tossed the package up in the air and caught it with his other hand. “Mina gave this to me.”

“Ah.” Marco let out unconsciously. So he did get some chocolates from a girl in the end. “Well, congratulations, you got some chocolate in the end after all.”

“Uh, yeah.” Jean said, his grin had turned into a more unsure smile. “She kinda insisted that we’d share this one. So I think this is a gift for both of us.”

So that’s was the reason to why he suddenly looked so uncertain.

“You can keep my half if you want to.”

“Hey, now, that wouldn’t be fair. It was for you as well and I know that you like chocolate almost as much as Sasha does. So.” He opened the package and then reached it out to Marco after taking out a breadstick for himself. “We’ll share.”

Marco couldn’t help but to chuckle. “All right. If you say it’s fine” He reached his hand out to take one.

Jean looked as if he was going to say something, but then he stopped as they thought they heard whispering behind them. It was Mina and Annie who were talking to each other in whispers. Mina was blushing in a similar fashion that she usually did when she was reading one of her mangas before class. Just a faint shade of pink on her cheeks accompanied by a small smirk that was filled with excitement. Why she was having that expression now was something that Marco couldn’t figure out.

Sasha and Connie soon arrived from their groups. As per routine they greeted each other in their extravagant way and then proceeded to talk about what had happened during that one hour when they had been separated. Right, he was going to give some chocolate to Connie as well.

 

* * *

 

Even though Valentine’s day had passed, his friends would occasionally bring up the topic about love. The two boys really wanted to have a girl who they could cherish and call theirs. Marco had tried to comfort the boys by offering some sympathetic words. The words probably fell a bit flat as Marco didn’t really understand their longing.

When Jean once asked if Marco wasn’t hoping for a girl that he could sweep off her feet he had responded with a chuckle.

“Love finds those who aren’t looking for it as well. I rather just fall in love with someone unexpectedly rather than chase it around.” He had taken a moment of pause to think of an allegory to use. “Think of it as a butterfly. The more you chase it, the more it will elude you. You might catch it in the end, but isn’t it nicer to have it approach you and have it land on your shoulder?”

Sasha had squealed at his answer and pinched his cheeks while calling him a “romantic”. Perhaps it was some truth to that. Connie seems to have taken those words into consideration as he stopped bringing up the subject about wanting a girlfriend. It was only Jean now who would occasionally bring up the subject on wishing he had a girlfriend.

Marco couldn’t really understand why Jean wished for a girlfriend with such a desire. But he had confided in Marco, telling him that he felt insecure about not ever been in a relationship. They were still young, completely inexperienced (Marco had not fallen for the lie that Jean once told him that he had kissed a girl before. He confessed that it was a lie three minutes later) and were having the time of their lives. But perhaps that’s what sparked Jean’s longing. The lack of experience brought the will to acquire experience. Marco had witnessed how Jean’s family had increased the pressure by assuming that he did have a girlfriend.

Marco tried to tell Jean that it was alright to be inexperienced, and if he let it get to him too much, he’ll miss out on enjoying all the things they were experiencing in the present. He cared about his friend and didn’t want him to beat himself up over something as silly as being single. Jean seemed to have this vision that you need to have a special someone to ensure you were worth something.

“Doesn’t having us as your friends count as something?”

Jean opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to have changed his mind.

“Of course it does.” He had replied with a sorrowful smile on his lips. “You mean more to me than you can imagine.” Jean’s face had then been drenched in a crimson colour. The boy certainly wasn’t used to show that type of affection.

 

“Whoopie! It’s spring!” Sasha exclaimed as she kicked the door open and ran outside. “Jean! Hold my wallet!” She exclaimed out to him and tossed her wallet at him. He fumbles as he caught it, and then shoved it in his pocket.

Jean sighed and called out to her. “Sasha, it’s like 10 degrees out, isn’t it too cold to be wearing a t-shirt and a skirt already?” He shifted his gear from walking speed to jogging in order to catch up.

The four of them were leaving the school building for today and were heading out to the store. Reiner had earlier this week invited them to his LAN party as he and Bertholdt had properly settled in his mother’s terrace house. They were pretty much living there alone though as his mother spent most of her time over at her boyfriend’s place. There were talk amongst them that Reiner might get the terrace house if his mother moves in with her boyfriend. Because of that, Reiner had moved most of his stuff to the terrace house, and Bertholdt had been living in their guestroom. Marco was a little jealous over their early independence as he would love to live together with his friends and learn how to live independently from his parents.

The girl spun on her heels and smiled at her childhood friend. “It’s fine! I’m wearing these really thick thigh socks so my legs won’t get cold. Besides, you wouldn’t know how great it feels to finally be able to wear skirts again since you’ve never worn a skirt before. Oh! Except for that one time--”

“ _Tch!_ ” The tanned-haired boy gritted his teeth. “Just put a jacket on. And stop hopping around like that, unless you’re purposely trying to flash your panties for everyone in the schoolyard.”

“Energetic as always.” Marco said with a smile on his lips. Connie, who was walking beside him, nodded in agreement. Connie would’ve probably joined her if he thought the weather was great, but the scarf and thin gloves told him what he thought of the temperature. Connie could be surprisingly calm at times, even if Sasha was bouncing around. They always seemed to excite each other, but even Connie had his limits.

He continued to watch them. Marco had already figured out since day one that they were childhood friends, but sometimes he wondered if it wasn't something more behind that. But maybe he was the only one to think that. He adjusted his scarf that he wore, since he still thought it was a bit chilly this morning.

Jean was inexperienced when it came to love and girls, that was easy to tell by him going beet-red whenever he tries to compliment a girl, or whenever he has physical contact with a girl in any way that might have a romantic meaning. With that he meant that casual touching like nudging your elbow at him or bumping fists didn't cause a flustered reaction. Neither did punching and kicking at the dojo. Speaking of that, he was always reluctant to train with girls. After openly saying that he doesn't want to hit girls, Annie stepped in and taught Jean the hard way that when it came to self defense, it doesn't matter what sex the attacker is and that it's good training to practise with people of different sizes.

“You never get to choose your attacker.” She had cooly said. He remembered how Mina had squealed in the background over how cool she thought Annie was.

No, it was mostly touches that could have a romantic undertone that set of Jean. Hugs, leaning against his shoulder, hands touching. Even whispering in his ear set him off, but that might very well be caused by what is whispered in his ears.

Jean was heard releasing a sigh of frustration as Sasha was visibly seen whispering in his ear.

“Hey Connie…” Marco said to get the attention from the guy who was walking next to him.

The shorter boy looked at him, as he too was readjusting his scarf, “Yeah?”

“Don’t you think that they kinda act like a couple?” Marco asked, looking ahead where Jean and Sasha were. Jean was currently arguing with Sasha to put her jacket on.

“Who?” Connie asked. Marco pursed his lips, he thought it was quite obvious.

“Jean and Sasha.” He said and jutted his chin in their direction.

Connie’s eyes were now locked on their two friends in front of them. “Nah.” He said and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, sometimes, I guess. What, like recently?”

Marco wasn't sure how he wanted to proceed with this questioning. He didn’t want Connie to suspect that there was any ill will against romance in their group, but Connie tended to jump into conclusions and not give him a chance to explain. Luckily for him, this time Connie continued to talk without needing a reply from Marco.

“They’ve been acting like this for years. Jean has the posterior of a jerkwad, but truth is that he's kinda a dork who cares about people. He just presents it in the worst way possible. And Sasha, well, she only teases him because Jean is a gold mine when it comes to getting a funny reaction from someone.” He paused to snivel as the weather had made his nose runny. “He has the face of a thug, but he's as pure and inexperienced to love as a newly packaged pair of white panties.”

Marco couldn’t help but to laugh at that allegory. It might be a bit extreme, but he had seen for himself how red and gibberish Jean became whenever someone touched him. Or when a beautiful girl talked to him. Also on a few occasions when Marco had touched him.

_Touch._

It felt a bit weird to think of it as that. A bit... dirty? Marco cringed.  
If touch sounded dirty, what other word should he use? Feel? Uhm, no, that sounded too romantic.   
Establish physical contact? Hmm. No.

_‘He probably reacts to me touching him because he’s not used to physical contact and he’s scared of going outside the norm.’_

There wasn’t anything wrong with fitting in to the norm, as long as you did it on your free will and not at expense of your own happiness. Marco rubbed the tip of his nose as he pondered if he should ask Connie another question he had on his mind, or to just ignore it.

“Hey, I have another question.”

Connie sniveled once and tilted his head. “More questions for the genius?”

“Hey, are guys coming or what?” Jean called out to his friends who were walking behind. “If we’re going to the store first to buy snacks then we can’t take forever if we don’t want to arrive too late.” They had stopped at the zebra crossing and were waiting for them to catch up.

“Come on guys!” Sasha cheered them on as they closed in on the distance between the pairs.

 

As soon as the four of them stepped in to the store, Sasha took charge of where they were going in the store. Jean had complained about her being a big spender when it came to buying snacks and once more brought up the topic about her wearing the wrong clothes for the season. He had given her his jacket after hearing her chatter her teeth at the dairy section. This bothered Marco more than he wanted it to. Needles prickled his heart.

Jean called out to the girl who was now approaching the cashier. “Hey, Sasha, wait. I need my wallet that’s in my jacket.”

Marco felt queasy as bubbles of worry were bursting in his stomach. He knew he was overreacting and reading too much into the signs, but he couldn’t stop. If his friends had found happiness with each other, then who was he to object. But... would he be this upset if they had found someone else to adore than each other? Was it because of the people involved that caused him to worry? Or maybe it was because of one specific person involved who he didn’t want to see together with someone?

“You okay, man?”

“Huh?” Marco snapped out of his thoughts only to see Jean next to him with a slightly furrowed brow. He stared dumbfounded at his friend. _‘Jean.’_

“You look a little pale. You okay?”

Was it that he didn't want to see Jean together with someone? Marco couldn’t lie that he sometimes felt some possessive tendencies when it came to Jean, but this...

It was borderline cruel for him to not want his friend to enter a relationship with someone when Jean had confided in him that he really wanted a girlfriend. Memories of that moment made Marco remember how Jean looked at that moment. Curled up on his bed next to him, scratching his neck and averting his gaze away from Marco.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” Marco used all of the energy he had to smile. It was odd how much it took to force a smile when otherwise they popped up all the time on his face unconsciously.

“You sure?”

Their eyes met. Jean was looking genuinely concerned.

_‘If I said no, what would you do then?’_

No, he should think of things like that. They were going to hang out tonight at Reiner’s place and they were going to have a great time. So he shouldn’t bring himself down prior to that.

“Yes, Jean.” He repeated, silently hoping the words would reach himself as well. “Stop worrying.”

He didn’t want things to change.

 

“Sup, you guys! Great to see you’re here!” Reiner greeted them at the door.

“Ah, hello.” Bertholdt greeted them meekly from behind his best friend.

They all entered the cramped hallway of Reiner’s terrace-house.

“Reiner, we have a problem.” Bertholdt tried to get his friend’s attention by pulling his sleeve. Once he managed to get it he leaned in closer and almost whispered. “The second TV won’t start.”

“Shit.” Reiner gritted between his teeth. Then he turned to the rest of his guests. “Well, you can dump any food you want to eat in the living room, and you can stash whatever food and beverage in the fridge if you want it cold.” He and Bertholdt then stepped aside to have a discussion.

It sounded like there was some trouble going on. If that was the case, then Marco wanted to help, but he decided to let them have a go at solving the problem before troubling their guests. In the living room there was a really thick mattress filled with large pillows instead of a sofa. A bit unusual, but considering they were a lot of people here and the room wasn’t that spacious, making use of as much floor as possible was a solution.

There was already two guests there before them, Annie and Mina. Annie was half-sitting, half-lying down on the mattress, using Mina as support while playing a game. She was wearing glasses, something that Marco never had seen her wear previously, and was far too busy in her game to bother greeting the rest of her classmates. Mina on the other hand, gave everyone a toothy smile as they stepped into the room.

“Hi guys!” She said cheerfully. Her fingers were combing through Annie’s hair, which was let down. A first time view as well, as she would always tie it up in a bun, or occasionally in a ponytail. Marco wasn’t sure why he took notice to things like that since liking long hair was a thing Jean had.

Sasha climbed and crash landed into the mattress next to Mina, away from the entrance. “Min-Min!” she sang in a playful tune. “Will you do my hair next?”

The other girls readjusted their positions as Sasha’s crash landing had ruined their perfect balance. The dark haired girl chuckles. “I’m not sure if Annie will allow it, you’ll have to ask her.”

Sasha edged closer to the blonde girl. Without even looking at her or batting an eye, Annie delivered a calm “No.” much to Sasha’s dismay.

Her legs sprawled to express her disappointment. The twin-tailed girl then told her in a soothing voice that she could do it later when Annie’s satisfied. The rest of the guys then took a seat on the mattress. Marco noted that Jean didn’t sit next to Sasha. Then he mentally slapped himself for noticing that.

Then Bertholdt and Reiner stepped into the room. “We have a slight problem.” Bertholdt announced, fidgeting slightly with the hem of his shirt.

Everyone on the mattress turned their heads towards the two in the hallway, minus Annie. Her eyes were still glued to the screen.

“It appears that the other TV upstairs won’t turn on. So we won’t be bringing it downstairs.” Reiner announced, pointing up to the roof.

“However. I contacted my dad and got his permission to borrow a projector that we can hook up here downstairs. That way we’ll be able to hang out in the same room.” Reiner did a thumbs up as he scanned the room to read everyone’s expression. “So, I’m going to and pick it up by bus, but I need to pick up  some other stuff as well, so any volunteers?”

Connie stretched his arm up in the air in a similar fashion to how one does in a classroom when they know the answer. Reiner smiled at him.

“Right, let’s go then.” He quickly ran his hand through his short hair. “Bertl here will need some help in moving some furniture so we can free as much of the wall as possible for the projector.”

Connie got up from the mattress and followed Reiner. The difference in height looked a bit silly as the shortest guy stood next to the two tallest in class. When Connie and Reiner had left the building, Bertholdt looked a little like he had no idea on what to do. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Jean decided to speak up.

“Okay, so we need to move some furnitures.”

Bertholdt blinked a few times. “Yes, I was thinking that we can free the wall a bit by moving the TV a little to the left… Is that alright with you, Annie?” He cast a careful glance at her.

Annie paused the game and removed her glasses. “Sure. I’ll help you move TV.”

 

After they’ve moved all the furniture and Jean had calmed down after stubbing his toe, all of them had taken a seat on the mattress. Annie had loaded up and resumed the game she was playing earlier. Jean had grabbed a controller and assumed the second player as they played the mission multiplayer.

Sasha had gotten bored of watching them play a first person shooter and had started to play with Mina’s hair. While Mina had braided an intricate braid of Annie’s hair, Sasha had braided numerous of small braids all over her hair.

Mina let out a sigh of content as she witnessed her work of art. “Annie, you have to check yourself out later in the mirror. You look stunning!”

Annie was visibly frowning and biting down on the small stick that was a remnant of the ice lolly she had finished a while ago. Sasha leaned over Mina’s shoulder to get a good view herself.

“Oh, wow. She’s right! You look amazing, Annie.”

The girl in glasses frowned even more, and was sinking further down into Mina’s lap. It was obvious that someone here wasn’t used to getting compliments. Marco felt that he got an insight on how the girls interacted with each other outside of school. He wasn’t exactly the most excited person over going to parties, so he hadn’t really spent time outside of schools with more than one girl in his company. It almost felt a bit cliché-filled to see them play with each other’s hair.

“I think so too.” Bertholdt quietly mumbled while sneaking glances at Annie.

It was a bit suspenseful to watch how Annie would react since no one really knew how she would react. In the end she mumbled a thanks, much to Marco’s surprise.

After completing the mission that Annie wanted to play through. They switched to a more casual multiplayer game where they could play four players.

“Yeah, I know this game.” Marco said as he held the box for the game that Mina suggested they should play. “My sister and I play Mario Party from time to time.”

“You have a sister, Marco?” Mina asked.

“Wait, that’s not fair if you’re going to play a game against us who haven’t played it.” Sasha said while she was braiding Mina’s braids together. Her work was starting to look like something that belonged to a medieval fare.

“We can play in teams.” Mina suggested. “I played this game too, so I can take turns with playing together with someone.”

“Me, me, me!” Sasha called while clinging around Mina’s shoulders. Annie didn’t seem to have any objects to playing alone.

“I’ll take turns with Jean then.” Marco turned to Jean for confirmation. “If it’s alright with you.”

“Sure.” His mouth was a straight line. “I don’t mind winning.” After finishing the second sentence his mouth flashed a grin.

“Oh! You’re going down!” Sasha cheered as she struck an action-y pose towards the screen. “Fire this shit up!”

“But, if you guys are playing as teams...” Bertholdt started to say, a sweat bead visible on his cheek.

Well, there was a way that so he wouldn’t have to play alone. “You can team up with Annie if you don't want to play alone.” Marco suggested, not really sure if it was a suggestion that they’d even consider.

Jean raised an eyebrow. “Isn't this a four-player game?”

“Yes, but we can put the fourth character on CPU.” The AI was notoriously bad in this game, but Marco decided to keep quiet about that.

“Bertl, have you played this type of game before?” Annie coolly asked, turning her head sideways to cast him a glance.

“Yeah, a predecessor when Reiner and I were kids.” He fidgeted with his fingers when he answered her question. Oddly not squirming.

She slowly turned her head back and looked at the moving figures on the screen. “The other groups have one player who has previously played the game. So, you can play with me.”

Marco smiled. It was her way of saying that she hadn’t played a previously and that they could team up to establish the same balance as the other teams. Marco picked up the controller as the player one and started to set up the game.  There was a lot of pointing and shouting coming from the players without a hand controller, urging their partner to listen to their opinion and cheering them on.

Mina and Sasha continued to play with each other’s hair but eventually moved on to placing hairclips in all the guys’ hair, minus Jean. He refused. While Mina had accepted his wishes, Sasha was more persistent and had eventually fastened a hairclip on the back of his hair. When he noticed it, Marco helped him by removing it. He felt slightly smug about removing it and getting a “Thanks” from Jean and booing from Sasha. Marco was mildly surprised over how jagged Jean’s hair felt since it looked quite soft.

Halfway through the match they all heard the door opening. Connie and Reiner returned they were greeted by all the people in the mattress the first thing that caught their eyes were the hairclips in Marco’s and Bertholdt’s hair.

“Cute.” Reiner said, and ruffled his best friend's hair. The hairclip was hanging loosely after the ruffling, so Reiner sat down next to his friend and adjusted the clip back to its original place. Bertholdt protested weakly. Sasha then clung onto Reiner after finishing her turn and put a matching clip on him. Connie was smirking at the whole ordeal, completely safe from falling victim. Annie then cut his bragging short as she mentioned having a hair band in her bag.

Reiner and Connie decided not to jump in for this match as they then would have to take control over the character that’s been set on the medium AI, and it had done poorly. It didn’t help much either that all player’s had pitted against it, as it was a good get-away to pick some mean options and not having to feel bad about hurting someone’s feelings.

 

It was the last 5 turns of the game. Marco and Jean had done well, but got knocked down from first place after Sasha had stolen a star from them. After deeming that the next star was too far away to buy another one, Jean had managed to stumble across a magic lamp. But they needed 20 gold to buy a star. It looked bleak as they had now finished the second last turn. Then suddenly the minigame that Marco had never lost on showed up. But it was Jean’s turn to play.

“Jean!” Marco grabbed Jean’s shoulders with his hands and forced Jean to face him. “You gotta let me have this one!”

“But...” Jean started, but his expression quickly steeled.

One look between them was enough to communicate what seriously needed to be done. Jean handed over the controller and entrusted their victory in Marco’s hands. The mission was to press the A-button as much as possible for 10 seconds. He might have average gaming skills, but this was a talent of his that he suspected he caught on after all those years from strumming and tapping on his guitar.

The suspense was heaving heavy in the room, and it was so thick that you could cut through it with a knife. Marco was gripping the controller with both hands and leaning slightly forward towards the screen, the body position used when playing games to tell everyone in the room that he’s going all out to win this. Each second of he countdown made time pass slower.

_“Go!”_

The instance his brain had registered the start-sound, Marco began tapping the button on the controller. Time was still going slower than usual, and he could hear the voices of his comrades as they let out cries and whimpers of pain as their hands started to cramp.

“Holy shit, Marco! You're amazing! How the hell are you able to press the button so fast!”

Jean clung onto Marco’s shoulders after viewing the results of their victory. Mina was giggling almost frantically, and Reiner and Connie were making dirty jokes about Marco and his ability. He tried to tune them all out, but when Jean asked if they were serious, he burst out laughing.

 

Marco fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. While it wasn’t the first time he would sleepover at someone’s place, it was the first time he would crash over there when a lot of other people was there as well. He, Jean, and Connie had gotten dibs on the guestroom, while Reiner and Bertholdt was sleeping together in Reiner’s bedroom. The girls were going to sleep in the livingroom.

Connie expressed his worry about sharing the same room as Jean, due to his snoring which Jean had gotten defensive about, saying that he only snored that bad whenever he was having a cold.

Reiner told Connie that he could use his mother’s bedroom if it got that bad, or he could kick Jean out and force him to sleep there if Marco was having trouble sleeping. The question about how much sleep Marco was going to get tonight crossed his mind.

He glanced sideways at Jean who was brushing his teeth with a bluetooth brush. His gaze wandered from the toothbrush to Jean’s nape. The hair was short and even, as it had been cut recently. Recalling how the long hair felt made Marco squirm again as he felt warmth spreading across his cheeks. They both retreated to the mattresses that had been made for them so they could sleep.

“Why do they have to be so loud?”

Jean groaned as he rolled onto his back. Marco agreed in silence. It was a LAN-party afterall, so that half of the group wanted to stay up all night was normal. But for those who had sport activities the next day, the idea of not getting any sleep sounded too inconvenient. But it seemed like Marco was going to have to sleep at home before going to practise if he was going to get some sleep and not collapse.

“Hey, Marco…” Jean said in a low voice. Marco turned his head to look at Jean’s profile.

“Mm.” He replied with a tired voice.

It was quiet in the room. Their breathing and the muffled conversations and cheers from the floor below was the only sounds that filled the room. Even though the lights were off, Marco could trace the contours of Jean’s profile. His nose was long and straight, and for a second he felt like poking it to make Jean continue on with whatever it was that he wanted to say.

“I’m not going to get any sleep.”

Marco let out a sigh and rested his eyes. After sleeping over at Jean’s place he learned that Jean was a surprisingly light-sleeper, in contrast to both he and Connie, who slept like logs.

The sounds of shifting sheets came from Jean’s position. Marco knew he would drift off to sleep as soon as Jean stopped making frustrated noises.

“Marco.”

“Jean.” Marco replied half-asleep, refusing to open his eyes. “Just try to sleep, Jean…”

Marco could feel how Jean edged closer to him. He opened his heavy eyes to look at his friend. He knew tanned-haired boy wasn’t going to let him sleep unless he extinguished his complaints. Jean wasn’t the type of person to suffer in silence.

"I can’t when they’re making so much noise." Jean whined, seemingly fully-awake. The lines under his eyes were the only giveaway that he was tired. The light sliding in through the door spring lit up his profile. “Come with me downstairs and tell them to shut up.” He sat up and looked at the sleepy Marco.

Marco sighed. "No, Jean. They’re having fun, let them be.” Even if he wanted them to quiet down, half of him was already asleep.

“Then how am I supposed to get some sleep.” Jean collapsed back down in defeat and stared with intensity at Marco, who was too far into falling asleep to care. “What do you do when you’re trying to fall asleep?”

Marco groaned and rolled to the other side, facing away from Jean. Jean didn’t approve of that and sat up once again. “Hey!” he hissed and leaned over Marco. The freckled boy made whining noises at Jean, telling him to stop talking and just let him sleep. But Jean wouldn’t have any of that. He placed his arm over Marco’s and shook him gently. “Marco, come on, you can’t just leave me here.”

“Try going to the bathroom.”

“I don't have any business there right now, and you’ll just fall asleep if I leave you here.”

“So?” he asked in a flat voice. Marco saw no problem with that arrangement.

“Just help me fall asleep, and I’ll leave you alone. So tell me, what do you do when you have trouble falling asleep?”

Marco sighed and then glanced sideways at his friend. Jean was face had a hopeful smile, but Marco was too tired to care or to smile back.

“Masturbate.” He replied with a deadpan tone. Jean froze.

That word alone had turned Jean into a rambling mess. “Eh-- Wh-- A-Are you serious!? I can’t do that here!”

Marco was starting to get really frustrated. He usually had a lot of patience for Jean, especially an embarrassed and flustered Jean. But the lack of sleep had made that patience thin. Jean’s whining wasn’t endearing anymore when you’d been up for almost 20 hours. “Do it in the bathroom.”

“Marco, I’m serious!” Jean pleaded with an uncharacteristic high pitch. Marco felt his pillow adjust to the weight of Jean’s head dropping down onto it behind him. Jean’s breath was tickling the nape of his neck.

He wasn’t even sure if he had been serious when he suggested that Jean should jack-off in order to fall asleep. Deciding not to pursue that thought, he tried to think of ways to help Jean fall asleep. “I don’t know, Jean. I usually never have trouble falling asleep. Try the classics that people do when they have trouble falling asleep.”

Jean stretched out his neck. “What are those?”

“Drink warm milk with honey…” A classic that he’d never tried out, so he didn't know if it was effective or not.

Jean responded with a cringe. “Euw, no.”

“Right, night, Jean.” Marco threw his blanket over him and shook of Jean’s arm

There was silence of disbelief coming from Jean. He sat up with a jerk and stared at his friend. “Wait, that’s it?”

“No, but you wouldn't let me finish.” Jean’s behaviour was starting to wear him out.

“Okay, I'm sorry that I interrupted you. Can you please continue?”

“Hmm…” Marco pondered for a while. “I don’t really know any after that.” He tried recalling situations where he had been doing something that had resulted in him getting sleepy. An old memory of him spending time with his parents came in to mind. His mother and father were sitting close to each other, holding hands, while Marco was resting his head in his mother’s lap. She was running her fingers through Marco’s hair at that time, making him fall asleep midway through the movie. “Uhm, I know I usually get a bit sleepy whenever someone is playing with my hair and massages my scalp. I think it’s cozy when someone plays with my hair.”

“Oh.” Jean said in a small surprised voice. “I wouldn’t know… something like that.”

Awkward silence has creeped in between them. Even though Marco should be thankful for that as it provided him a window to fall asleep. But instead the silence had triggered the opposite effect and Marco had started to wake up now. He turned around to face his friend. The light’s had once again been turned off in the hall, making the room pitch black. For some reason, he really wished he could see what kind of face Jean was making. Anything to offer him a hint about what his friend was thinking.

Finally, Marco caved in and mustered up what little courage and acting talent he could find.   
“Well, we can try it out.” He tried to sound as normal and calm as possible, but in truth he felt very awkward and self-aware.. “You know, to see if you like it.”

Jean’s eyes widened in surprise as his breath hitched. Though it was too dark to see, it was easy to imagine his face covered in a shade of crimson red. Several gulps of air and small sighs could be heard from Jean. They continued as Jean slowly lied down and squirmed in silence. Marco let out a small sigh himself as he shifted his position and moved closer to Jean and started to carefully stroke his hair.

Jean let out a gasp after registering contact and his body froze in place. Marco stilled his hand movement as he waited for his friend to voice his reaction. Jean started to cover away from him slightly.

“You okay, Jean?”

“Yeah. It’s a bit weird, but I guess it’s kinda cozy.” His voice was weak and sounded as if it would crack at any moment. Marco couldn’t help but to find it endearing.

Marco hummed as he resumed stroking Jean's hair. His hair was jagged, and made him reminiscence about a excited dog he and Jean ran into a couple of days ago.

Footsteps were heard from the corridor, followed by the sound of flicking the light switch. The light revealed the expression and contours of the body lying in front of him. Jean had his eyes closed, and a small wrinkle between his eyebrows was visible.

“You sure you’re okay, Jean?” Marco asked.

Jean frowned, “It kinda feels like you're petting me instead of massaging.”

Marco chuckled. Perhaps him reminiscing about past meetings had made unconsciously move his hand as if he was petting a dog. “Sorry, my arm is in a kinda awkward position.”

He adjusted his arm so it was resting across Jean’s shoulder and his fingers could bury themselves in the hair of the back of his head. Marco could feel blood being sent out to his hands and face. He wasn't the only one blushing. Jean had jolted back and a blush was visibly seen on his face as the light from the corridor had seeped in from the springs around the door. He wasn’t pulling back, or pushing Marco away, which Marco took as a sign that the closeness wasn’t rejected.

Marco could feel his mouth curl up at the edges. His eyes were starting to feel heavy once again. If it had the same on effect on Jean, he didn’t know. But he took the silence as a sign that he’d at least given up on complaining. Jean then shifted his position so he was resting his forehead on Marco’s collarbone. The additional warmth was welcomed and Marco slowly drifted off to sleep.

 

A yell from downstairs had woken him up at an unknown time. Who it came from was uncertain, but it was quickly followed with a lot of laughter from everyone below. He groaned as he slowly opened one eye. The first thing he saw was Jean’s face with an annoyed expression, rubbing his left eye.

“Did they wake you too?” Marco asked in form of a whisper.

“Yeah...” Jean complained and lowered his hand. “Can’t believe I actually fell asleep.”

Marco gave his whiny friend a light chuckle, “Told you it was cozy.” Jean let out a disgruntled moan and accidently bumped his forehead on Marco’s chin.

“Oops, sorry!” Jean started but then suddenly froze. It took Marco another two seconds for him to register that they had fallen asleep really close, with Marco’s arm under Jean’s head and Jean’s face was muzzled against his chest. Marco didn’t know for how long they had been asleep like that, but the light seeping through the curtains told them that it was early morning. Jean jerked back, almost kicking Marco away.

“God, I’m so sorry, it’s just that...” Jean’s voice trailed off and he stared down on the spot where he had previously lain.

“N-no, it’s okay. I’m sorry if I weirded you out.” Disappointment had filled his chest where he previously felt Jean’s body heat.

Both of them were wide-awake and took turns in stealing glances at each other. Jean’s face was covered in a familiar red shade that Marco had seen several times. It wouldn’t be a surprise for him if his face was the same. Then Jean broke the silence.

“Is okay if I…” He cleared his throat after not being able to continue his sentence. “If we continue to sn-... c-cu...”

A pang of heat exploded on Marco’s face. He couldn’t help but to find it incredibly endearing that Jean, a guy who never really showed any physical affection and almost seemed to have something against it, was too embarrassed to even finish words asking for it.

Marco reached out his arms towards Jean. Was Jean trembling? It was difficult to tell since Marco’s body was still half-asleep. Expecting Jean to pull away, Marco sighed and lowered his arms. But then Jean did the opposite and crawled back into his previous position and adjusted himself so he would lie there comfortably. Jean then let out a grunt as he lifted Marco’s arm around him and moved Marco’s numb hand to the back of his head. He must’ve really like it having someone play with his hair. Marco let out a soft chuckle and started to twine some of Jean’s hair in between his fingers.

It was a bit odd that they were doing this. But neither of them seemed to want to pull away. Marco cleared his throat, earning a small startled twitch from Jean, as he tried to think of what to say next. Nothing would come to mind though. Not much time to think of an answer for that question as his thought process was cut short by Jean inching closer. Burying his face in the crook of Marco’s neck. A weird constrained sound came out from the back of Marco’s throat. His mind was clouded with questions and thoughts as a wave of unfamiliar feelings washed over him.

‘Is it… weird that I’m enjoying this?’

This whole situation felt surreal. Marco was running his fingers through Jean's hair and he could feel how his jagged hair pricked him slightly in his face. He buried his face in Jean’s hair. It smelled nice. There was an unfamiliar tightness in his chest that made it hard to breathe, and Jean’s breath, oh god he could feel his breath. It made his chest tighten further, making it almost impossible to breathe. He didn’t want to let go. Even if his other arm was getting crushed and losing feeling due to being under Jean’s body weight, he didn’t want to let go. He wanted to embrace him tighter and lie close to him the entire night. Though it technically was morning.

In the end Marco caved-in and had to adjust his arm. He apologized as he asked Jean to lift his upper body so he could retreat his arm. His arm placed in between them as it was slowly getting blood flow back, and the back of his hand brushing slightly against Jean's hand. The thought and want of grabbing his hand entered his mind. And closing in on that last ten centimeters in between their faces.

Was it normal to enjoy being this close to someone who you considered a close friend? Then again, he had never really been this close to someone for longer than a minute, so maybe it was due to the unfamiliarness that made him crave more, even if it was his best friend.

Jean adjusted his head slightly, now tilting upwards. Marco retreated back slightly so he could see Jean’s face. His eyes were closed and he looked rather content and peaceful. Jean always looked like he was either concerned about something, or that he was disapproving of something. It was a rare, but soothing sight to see his face without any signs of a frown and wrinkles. His hair was now poking and tickling Marco's chin a little. Marco adjusted his position slightly so that they were even leveled, mumbling an apology and excuse that Jean’s hair was poking him in the face. It then occurred to him how much he wanted to get closer.

The distance between their chests were now zero. It’s faint, but they could feel each other’s heartbeat against their chests. That, or Marco’s heartbeat had an odd echo. He felt hot. His entire face felt hot, his entire body felt hot, but he still wanted Jean to move in closer to feel his warmth. Their noses tip brushed against each other as Marco edged closer.

Jean opened his eyes slightly. A small wave of panic washed over Marco. Their faces were really close to each other.What if that was something Jean was completely against? With half-lidded eyes, they continued to look at each other, not saying anything. They continued to lie next to each other for an unknown amount of time, breathing each others air. He could feel his fingers itch for touch. He wanted to entwine his fingers with Jean's, move his face closer, he wanted air, more of Jean's air. His breathing was starting to turn heavy, and he would lie if it didn't feel slightly erotic. He could feel a tingle in his groin together with the massive flock of butterflies in his stomach.

Not able to withstand the need for more touch, Marco moved his arm across Jean’s. His fingers traced down his nape and then brushed slightly past Jean's ear, causing him to hitch his breath. Oh. God. All air supply was suddenly cut to Marco's lungs and it became impossible for him to breathe. Jean had now begun breathing through his mouth and the warmth of his breath made it so impossible for Marco to stay still. He filled his hand with a chunk of Jen's hair and tightened his grip. Jean let out a small sigh that made Marco's face heat up even further, and he could feel how he was starting to gradually harden in a place where really he shouldn’t. This was bad, so bad. His imagination was going it’s on own way and refused to listen to what little reason his brain could offer in this situation.

Marco tucked his free hand under Jean’s neck. Carefully tracing the crook of his neck using his thumb all the way down to his collarbone. Jean’s legs squirmed. He slid his right foot in between Marco’s feet, stealing some warmth from him. How any part of Jean’s body remained cold was astounding to Marco. He felt as if he was going to burn up from the inside.

“Marco…” Jean whispered his name in a light moan.

An alarm was going off in his head. These urges were new and scary, but Marco wanted nothing more than to give in to them. He wanted to close in on those last few centimeters between him so badly. Cross the line between friends to something else. No, not just traverse the line, he wanted to leap over it explore with his hands what could be found on the other side. He could feels Jean’s heartbeat against his. His heart was beating really hard and out of sync with Jean’s. The beating alone was enough to drive him insane. Only that it wasn’t the only factor that was fueling his wants. A low pant escaped him and he bit his bottom lip to hold back more. He tried not to breathe too hard, but it was probably already too late for that.

Jean then slid his arm across Marco’s shoulder. Marco repeated Jean’s name in his mind with short intervals like a mantra. They were both panting even if they hadn’t done anything what Marco considered sexual. But the thoughts that were in his head certainly was. He let out some shaky whimpers as Jean’s nails digging down his shoulders. The crimson colour on Jean’s cheeks and ears looked lovely, and he wanted to cover his face with intense kissing. He moved his hand from Jean’s nape and cupped his blushing ear, rubbing it slightly with his fingertips.

“Jean, I…” Marco whispered in a husky voice and looked Jean in the eye. His eyes were still half-lidded and the way his mouth was hanging open was driving Marco insane. Jean let out a soft groan. That was the last drop of restraint that Marco had. His hands trembled as moved them to cradle both of Jean’s cheeks. He bit his lip once again as he then bid farewell to his rationality and took a deep breath before moving in for a kiss. Jean slammed his eyes shut as he let out an adorable pant. Their noses brushed against each other and Marco’s hands pulled Jean closer.

There was a large noise coming from below that made both of the boys jolt back. It had whipped all rationality back to Marco’s mind, clearing his head as he lied there frozen in place trying to register what that sudden noise could be. The lack of each other’s warmth made the air feel icy as Marco’s body started to cool down. The thoughts that previously had invaded his mind was long gone, he no longer felt aroused, he no longer felt almost an unhealthy urge to kiss his best friend.

The blanket slid off him as he sat up and prepared to face the day ahead of them. A quick glance at Jean revealed that he had also come to his senses as he had lost the crimson colour on his face, now only soft pink and was covering his eyes with his right arm. Perhaps so because he felt embarrassed. Marco didn’t blame him, he felt the same way. Becoming aroused and almost kissing his friend just a few seconds ago...

Impulse is a scary thing.

 

Why couldn’t he stop thinking about it.

Marco wasn’t a stranger when it came to physical contact, so he knew very well that he liked feeling the warmth of someone, whoever it was from his family or friends.

This time it was different though. He couldn’t stop thinking how much he enjoyed those last hours together with Jean. And recalling the closeness made his stomach churn. It felt bitter and cold when they both decided to pull away and get up. The lack of warmth made Marco want to pull Jean in again, and spend the entire day in bed with him in his arms. It took all the self control and rational thinking that Marco had to not give into that urge. But it left him feeling bitter, and he still missed the warmth that Jean’s body had provided. There was an unfamiliar feeling of loneliness and sadness in his chest that he couldn’t brush off no matter how funny and attentive his friends were that morning. It was momentarily qualmed when they were riding the bus going home, and Jean’s hand brushing against his. But then it returned as waves crashing into his chest once Jean had gotten off the bus and said good bye.

 _'I must be going mad...'_ he thought to himself as he rolled over to his stomach and slammed his eyes shut. Hugging his pillow tightly, he thought back on the warmth and stomach twisting event. How cozy it was, and how it then had turned into something else. Something that felt foreign and new, even though it shouldn’t have. How it went from butterflies to him breathing hard and becoming aroused. He felt a slight tingle in his groin, much like how he had felt when Jean ‘s breath had been covering his face. Marco adjusted his position, the friction of his clothes caused him to let out a small moan of surprise.

The urge to please himself fell upon him. Feeling a bit uncertain, he bit his bottom lip. Marco had never really understood the concept of masturbation. He usually only did so to himself whenever he had time and hadn’t done it in a while. It was something that he view as and itch. It wouldn't go away unless he scratched it.

It had been a while since last time, but why now? Why now more than ever?

Marco felt his face increasingly getting hotter and how a knot was forming in his stomach. This wasn’t going to go away by itself and he knew that. His hands traveled down from his pillow and slips his hands beneath him and stops at the brim of his pants. Letting out a shaky sigh, he then carefully unzipped his pants and tugged them down so he could cup his erection with his left hand. It felt as a relief and Marco started to move his hand. First in small and slow circular movements. The right hand was getting rid off his pants that landed on the floor. He could pick them up later. He caressed his erection outside of his boxer as he felt his urges grow and his member stiffen. The pillow blocked all the small moans that escaped Marco’s throat. When he decided that this wasn’t enough stimulation, Marco’s hand moved to the band of his boxers.

Slowly pushing his underwear downwards, Marco whimpered as he was freeing his erection from the last piece of cloth that covered it. First he lightly touched his erection using only his fingers. He gasped at the touch and then flipped over to his back so he could touch himself properly. Fingertips slowly moving up and down, letting out soft sighs of pleasure.

Marco wrapped his hand around his shaft and started to move his hand up and down. His eyes slammed shut as he increased the pace. He licked his dry lips, fantasizing about kissing someone with that burning passion he’s seen young lovers do in the park when Marco was heading home late. How the weight of someone straddled on top of him would feel pressing down on his thighs. The excitement and lust when someone else’s hands would touch him like he was touching himself right now. A warm, and soft hand wrapped around his cock. Hands like Jean’s. The hands that had earlier grabbed a hold of his shoulder and digged his nails into his skin.

His entire body twitched at the thought of his friend. Marcos felt the need to stop and process what was happening.

”J-Jean?”

Why was he fantasizing about Jean? And why did it excite him so when he did? He could feel the knot tighten in his stomach. It was something about Jean that kept drawing Marco in. He tried to battle those thoughts away, but the comfortable warmth that he felt earlier this evening haunted him. As he thought back to what he was doing just a few hours prior, how aroused he had become just by breathing the same air as Jean. How erotic Jean’s half-lidded expression looked. The strong urge to kiss him and risk throwing away the friendship between them that Marco valued so much. Instead of continuing to fight those thoughts, he decided to embrace them, hoping that it would provide answers to his questions.

Jean. He thought back on how close they were lying next to each other and that he could feel the heat that Jean’s body was giving off. How he shivered as his arm brushed against his, how their fingers were touching and how much Marco wanted to grab ahold of Jean’s hand and feel his fingers intertwine with his. He thought back on how close Jean’s face was, how he could feel his breath on his skin as Jean breathed out. He recalled the feeling of Jean’s hair as it had tingled against his forehead, and what could’ve happened if Marco had decided at that moment to lean in and kiss him. Butterflies had joined the knot in his stomach, and Marco started to pant as breathing through his nose was no longer enough. With no patience left, Marco viciously yanked off his boxers. His hands could not return to his cock any sooner.

Moving at a steady pace, Marco arched his back as he let out a loud moan. He tried to steady his breathing rhythm as he was moaning more than ever before. He knew that the most effective way to do that was to stop touching himself, but to hell with that. His mind continued to fill with fantasies of Jean. Jean writhing underneath him as he would suck on his neck and collarbone, making him beg for more. With an lustful look in his eyes, and with such an intensity that only Jean’s eyes were capable of. And with crimson cheeks he would let of moans of pleasure among with his name, only for him to hear.

The sound of Jean whispering his name earlier this evening started to ring in his ears. “Marco...”

His breath hitches as his mind fills with those images of Jean. Whispers of his friend’s name escaped his lips as he tightened his grip on his member. With the fantasies of Jean floating in his head, this was feeling unusually good. He bit his lip as he tried to stifle a moan building up inside him. When he saw that he was leaking precum, Marco moved his hand to cover the head, and then jerked his hand downwards, using his precum as lubricant. Another loud moan uncontrollably escaping his throat. Biting his lip wasn’t going to stop him any longer from moaning. Marco let out a series of soft, pleasured moans as Jean’s voice rang throughout his ears.

He's not used to being this vocal, and with what little control over himself that Marco still had brought his free hand to cover his mouth. The fantasizes turned more intense, as Marco was now imagining himself being pleased by Jean while exchanging sloppy kisses. The moans that escaped his throat were quelled by his hand, but the straggled sounds he was making was starting to slip past that barrier as he hungered for more stimulation. His hand started to increase its pace, slightly twisting as he wished for a Jean was straddled on top of him, right here and right now with his chest bare for Marco to touch.

Marco was biting down on his free hand to prevent more moans from escaping. He started to lick his fingers, imagining how Jean’s face would look like if he was the one licking Marco’s fingers. With those intense eyes of his in a submissive position. Or perhaps not. Perhaps Jean was in the dominant position and was teasing Marco as he pleaded for more.

Marco had given up the fight against his moans, as he shamelessly moaned as he continued to lick and suck his own fingers which was providing a strange, but heightening experience.

His moves were now more desperate and aggressive as he continued to pleasure himself to the thoughts of Jean touching him. The thoughts are so intense Marco thinks they’re going to make his brain short-circuit in any second. Waves of pleasure washed upon him as he was nearing his climax. He arched his back as he his hips were mechanically thrusting into his hands. He was so close, so close. Images of Jean was still flooding his head and for a moment he swore he could feel his breath on him. The sensation made him unconsciously curl his toes as he was starting to lose control. He had removed his fingers his mouth and the saliva on his hand was a welcomed additional lubricant.

”J... Jea-aahn..!” Unable to even say his name properly as his last cry ripped through his throat, Marco comes with a shudder and his vision turns white. As his body quakes after his release, his vision starts to shift to black instead as his body finally relaxes.

Marco slowly opened his eyes as his mind had finally rebooted. His body feels incredibly heavy and he wishes for nothing more than to go to sleep, but he knows he has to wash up first. Both of his hands are still enclosing his member in order to prevent any cum to drip onto the bed. He reached for a small pack of tissues on his nightstand with his less… contaminated hand.

He wiped his cock and hands in shame. As he watched the balled up tissue in his hand, filled with his cum that he released with Jean in his thoughts, he couldn't help but to feel disgusted. He cringed. He wanted to undo whatever he had done, burn all of the evidence, but his actions had already been burnt into his mind.

He washed his hands for several minutes, but the shame wouldn't wash off and disappear into the drain.

The evidence had been discarded, but the guilt had not.

 

* * *

 

“Happy birthday, Jean!” Their cheers cut through the classroom. Marco served a small cake in front of Jean as his other two friends placed presents on his desk. Homemade chocolate cake, with as little whipped cream as possible. He had seen how Jean would scrape away all the whipped cream whenever the four of them went to a café. How someone could not like whipped cream on pastries surprised him, but Jean was a bit different compared to anyone else.

The three of them had planned this thoroughly. Marco would bring the cake since he came from the other direction, he would then hide it in his locker. When Connie and Sasha would arrive together with Jean, she would then excuse herself as she tells the rest of them that she would go to the cafeteria and drag Connie with her. Marco and Jean would go to the classroom and have a casual conversation. Then he’d excuse himself as he would tell Jean that he needed to use the bathroom. The three of them then meet by the lockers where Marco would retreat the cake and their presents to Jean. Then they stormed the classroom.

“A-ah, thanks guys.” Jean stammered, obviously surprised and embarrassed.

Marco chuckled as he took a seat next to Jean. “So how does it feel to turn sixteen?”

“Huh?” Jean made his signature nasal sound as his eyes widen. “I’m not turning sixteen, I’m turning fifteen.”

That new piece of information made Marco freeze in place. His eyes widened in shock and blinked owlishly at Jean. “Wait, what?” He could feel how all blood in his face was drained, making him feel dizzy and queasy.

The commotion caused by them attracted the attention of Mina and Annie who sat in the row in front of them. Mina flashed them a smile and giggled softly as her attention was directed towards Jean. “How did you manage to skip one year?”

Jean cupped his chin with an open hand and leaned to the side.“I don’t know. I started one year earlier than everyone else.” He paused to let out a loud sigh. “Ask my parents what they did.”

Sasha and Connie sat down as well. Connie fetched a chair and Sasha sat down in Mina’s lap. “Connie skipped a year as well.”

“Is that so?” Mina’s fingers were quickly entwined in Sasha’s hair as she started to make small braids in Sasha’s ponytail. That girl sure had some odd interests. Connie grinned.

“Cause I’m a genius!” He said and snapped his fingers. Jean sighed.

“The school system is different from where he’s from.” Sasha explained and then turned her focus to the pastry in front of Jean. She stared at the small cake Marco had brought with him. “You gonna eat that, or can I have it?”

“No, it’s my cake.” Jean pulled the cake closer him as his expression turned into a frown. Sasha booed and the corner was filled with laughter. Reiner and Bertholdt also showed up, joining in on the fun. When their teacher came in, they all turned to face him and everyone who wasn’t sitting by their desk moved to them.

Marco was still frozen, he had gone cold by the blood in his veins had turned in to ice. He was startled by Jean whispering something to him. Marco scratched his neck, thinking about what jean could’ve said. A quick sideways glance revealed that Jean had a slightly worried or annoyed expression on his face. It was sometimes difficult to tell those apart when it came to Jean.

“No, nothing.” Marco said, rubbing the tip of his nose as he broke eye-contact. He knew he hadn’t succeeded on feigning normalness as Jean followed his gaze, trying to remain eye-contact. His gaze felt as piercing needles on his skin causing him to shiver and get goosebumps all over.

Why was this such an issue for him? So what if Jean was a year younger than him. Connie was a year younger as well. Now Connie was acting a bit more childish than he and Jean, there was nothing wrong with acting mature for his age. None of that bothered Marco.

What bothered him was that Jean was turning fifteen. Fifteen. The age of consent for him was a year ahead for Jean. Those fantasies that Marco had about Jean a week ago... Not that they would ever happen but… He did want them to happen, and wasn’t that just as bad as trying to make them happen? Even if it was only a year, would it classify as illegal? Marco wasn’t really sure what the rules really were when it came to that but…

He was certain that there was an unwritten rule about jerking off to fantasies about your best friend was wrong.

The guilt he felt a week back was crawling in his spine, shooting shudders all across his body. Why was he thinking about this now? The lesson had already started. Marco leered at the teacher. Her lips were moving but they weren’t making any sounds. His vision was starting to blur as his eyes forced him to blink.

A nudge from Jean caused Marco to switch target. Jean gaped back at him. He then lowered his head as he clinched his jaw. His lips moved.

“Are you okay?” Marco able to read based on his they were moving. His entire body tensed up. No. No he wasn’t. His gaze wandered down to the desk in front of him. His knuckles were starting to turn white. Jean had seemingly stopped eating from the cake he’d made for him. The fork dangling in between Jean’s fingers were inviting him to grab ahold of it and stab the cake. It might be contaminated. Contaminated with whatever was driving Marco insane. These feelings of disgust were too much to handle in the classroom.

He needed to get out of this classroom. He needed to lie down. He needed to wash his hands.

Marco excused himself from the classroom and locked himself in the bathroom. Sliding down onto the floor he let out a strangled sob as he tugged his hair.

Never again. He can never think about Jean in that way again.

 

* * *

Marco liked spring, but it was always difficult for him to really enjoy it. During this time, his eyes would always turn red. So would his nose and cheeks do on the worst days. He would at least sneeze once a day, and on the worst days he would have to lie down and brace himself in case it would get so hard to breathe that it felt like an asthma attack.

It felt a bit bothersome that this was also a popular time to cram in a lot of information before the exams. It generally turned out alright, as long as Marco had taken his allergy medicine and didn’t spend too much time outdoors. Jean had also taken it upon him to make sure that no windows were open in the classrooms unless the heat was killing them.

“The pollen sort I’m allergic to usually only blooms one month. So please bear with me until them.”

His allergies was initially discovered by his P.E. teacher when he was in elementary school. His track records were very inconsistent and the teacher then found a pattern in the inconsistency that Marco always performed worse in spring than he did in autumn. When he'd gone to the clinic and had an allergy test, the test revealed that he was indeed allergic to a specific tree sort's pollen.

His pollen allergies had gotten worse with age. Even when he had taken his medicines, Marco felt his body react to the incredibly small yellow dots in the air that Connie and Sasha had so lovingly dubbed tree-sperm as they had both read during a biology class that pollen was used to fertilize female flowers.

The weather was nice today, the sun was warm and it was windstill. It hadn’t rained for about two weeks. This was considered bad for all people with pollen allergies. He was lying down on a thin yoga mat indoors while everyone else was having P.E. class outdoors in the great weather. Marco let out a deep sigh.

When the door flung upon, Marco jolted up to see who it was. The sudden jerk made his throat seize up, causing him to cough and wheeze as he tried to get air down his lungs. The person at the door ran up to him and kneeled down next to him.

“Hey, hey now! You shouldn’t get up.”

“Jean?” Marco felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He looked up and with watery eyes at his friend. A warm smile greeted him as he rubbed his eyes to be able to see without the blur provided by his tears.

“Are you crying?” Jean chuckled as he sat down on the floor next to Marco.

Marco let out a frustrated sigh and covered his eyes with his arm. “It’s my allergies.” Even though it was true, it still felt embarrassing to have Jean point it out.

“Did you come to check up on me?” His voice was slightly shaky, and he went into coughing fit after asking his question. He could imagine Jean cringing with worried wrinkles on his forehead. It still felt too embarrassing to look at him. His face felt warm, which was a telltale sign that he was blushing. Jean would probably poke fun of that as well, so it was better to hide his face for now.

“Yeah, I was a bit worried since you looked like you were about to collapse after the five minute walk to here.”

Marco groaned. Damn allergies. Every friggin year, from April to May. He let out a sigh of frustration.

He could feel Jean’s fingers lightly brush against his forehead. Marco uncovered his eyes, and they met Jean’s. His chest tightened. Jean. There was a hint of sadness on his face. “You’re not sick or anything, right?”

“I’m fine, Jean.” Marco replied and removed his arm from his face, a brief meeting of their hands. Jean pulled back his hand as if it had touched an electrical fence. That reaction made Marco’s chest hurt.

But he didn’t want Jean to see that, so he tried to play it off casually. “Why don’t you go outside where the others are?” Weren’t they all going to play soccer today? Jean was rather good at that, but considering he and Connie had played for a few years that shouldn’t be a surprise. “I’m sure our classmates would want to have you in their team.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Jean cut in a millisecond after Marco had finished his sentence.

Marco sighed. “Jean, you shouldn't skip class.” He told his friend in a righteous, but gentle voice.

“I’m not, look…” Traces of hesitation was found in those words before he discontinued that sentence and started a new one. “Just rest up, okay?”

“Jean, are you worried about me?” Marco asked. When he didn’t receive a response, he adjusted his position so he could get a better view of his friend. “Jean?”

“Jeez, do you have to say my name every sentence?” He said in a frustrated tone. Jean was looking in the opposite direction as he said that, perhaps because he wanted to hide the expression he had on his face as he complained. His tone had sounded a bit harsh, but the blush on his ears told another story. Marco couldn’t help but to chuckle. Jean’s stubborn behaviour and reluctance to show any  kind of weakness was always something Marco had thought of as endearing.  He couldn’t quite pinpoint why Jean was blushing, but suppose it didn’t matter anyway since Marco’s cheeks were burning slightly as well. Looking in Jean’s direction only made it burn warmer.

Since they hung out at Reiner’s place, they seem to always sit closer to each other than before. They hadn’t been as close as then, but the distance between them whenever they spoke to each other was shorter, Jean had started to pat Marco on his back and shoulder more and sometimes when they sat next to each other their shoulders or arms would touch each other.

Why was he taking notice of all these things? And why did it make him happy whenever they had these brief moments of contact, and why did his chest tighten with an unfamiliar sadness whenever they touched and Jean reacted as if he’d been experiencing an electrical shock?

Marco slowly sat up. Jean swiftly spun around, his face revealed a soft shade of pink.   
“Hey, hey! What did I tell you about--”

“It’s fine.” Marco interrupted him, before he started to cough.

Jean got up from his spot and started to drag the mat towards the corner of the room. “What the? Jean?” Marco was struggling to hold his balance.

Jean stopped once they reached the corner. Without saying a word, he sat down next to Marco. Marco smiled sheepishly at him. Not that he didn’t want Jean to sit next to him, it was just that he couldn’t understand why he had dragged the mat here.

“If we sit here you won’t get the sun in your eyes.” Jean explained, staring down at his feet. He brought up his knees to his chest. “You can also lean back to the wall since you’re insisting on sitting up.”

Marco sighed and fell back onto the wall. His head collided with the sharp edge of the windowsill. Letting out a complaint of pain, Marco brought his hand to cover the sore spot on his head. Jean let out a chuckle before moving closer and asked if he could look at it to make sure Marco was okay.

“Yeah, you’re fine.” Jean said with a relieved voice and brought down his hands to his sides. Legs were lying flat in front of him, next to Marco’s.

Marco gave Jean a warm smile. “Yeah, I told you.” He said as he straightened his back.

A jolt of electricity was suddenly sent out through every nerve in Marco’s body as his hand brushed against Jean’s. Jean was sitting still, not pulling his hand away, not advancing to grab a hold of his hand. They continued to sit there in silence, occasionally sounds of them shifting their position.

The sunlight was warming up his hair. One of the downsides of having dark hair. Ah, but Jean liked dark hair, right? Then as if on cue, Jean rested his head on his. A surprised sound escaped Marco’s throat. He tried it still it as much as possible so Jean wouldn’t take it as a negative reaction.

“I’m tired.” Jean said a bit defensively when their eyes meet. Marco replied with a hum. He smelled a bit like sweat, so he had participated in the warm-up at least. Marco didn’t mind that much though. Instead he shifted his position so he could lean onto Jean’s shoulder.

“Your hair is warm.” Jean mumbled as carefully rested his head on top of Marco’s.

“Mm. It becomes like that because I have black hair.” He hummed as he replied.

Marco felt as if he was walking on air. Though it wouldn’t hurt if some of that air could get down into his lungs. The itching in his throat had started to feel like bugs were trying to crawl their way out. But he was determined not to cough for at least a few more seconds. When it became too much, Marco let out a series of coughs. They seemed almost never ending. Probably punishment for holding them back.

Jean patted Marco on his back. Even when he had stopped coughing Jean’s hand lingered on his back. Their eyes met. Jean was smiling at him, it was a warm smile. A smile that made Marco’s cheeks warm up. His stomach churned, and the feelings grew too intense for him to be able to continue to look at him.

Then it hit him. All of the puzzle pieces had fallen into place. All of these thoughts, questions and feelings he’d had since that night came back into his mind. It was as if now he’d finally stopped and looked at it from a different perspective. Picking up these hints as if they were bits of a crumbled paper that would spell out a simple answer for most of these questions that he had.

He was in love.

Love had found him even if he wasn’t looking for it. The butterfly had landed on his shoulder for the first time, and it was even more beautiful than the descriptions he had heard and read of it.

Marco wasn’t sure if he wanted it.

 

* * *

 

“No, no, no…” He couldn't stop shaking. “No, no, no. Oh god, no!” He continued to whisper in disbelief.

What had started out as a normal day had suddenly warped into something horrible. Marco was returning together with Reiner to the locker area after their teacher told them that they could end mentor's hour early. He had sent Jean a text about it and told him that he would wait for him in the library. They had an assignment together, and Marco thought it’d be a good idea if they started working as soon as possible.

But as he and Reiner arrived at the locker area they had found Ymir glaring at some red graffiti on her locker. Ymir wasn’t the one to normally display feelings of uncertainty or sadness, so it was the first time Marco had ever seen her with a tinge of sadness in her eyes. Her face then warped into anger and she clenched her phone and the papers in her hands. They continued to approach her, curious what the graffiti said on her locker.

Only it turned out it wasn’t her locker. It was Marco’s.

Fucking Faggot.

It only took a second to process what those letters meant, but that second was enough to sent Marco into a catatonic state as his days and memories of Trost Secondary School came crashing down. The red letters were mocking him. They were mocking the him of the recent discovery that he had about himself.

He was in love with Jean.

All of his blood left his face, and the rest of it in his body had turned to ice. He took a step back and covered his mouth.

“Not here. No, no, no…”

His worthless pleads slipped through his fingers as questions flooded his mind.

Why him? Did someone know? Who? When? Was it that obvious? Do more people know?

As if things couldn’t get any worse. He already had his hands full trying to get a grasp on what he was feeling towards his possibly best friend, and so this happens and it’s a giant slap in his face.

Does Jean know?

Strange how breathing could suddenly take so much effort now when in other times it would happen automatically.

Marco was brought back to reality after being shaken by Reiner for half a minute. Jean was going to be here any minute. He felt like running away, cry in the corner and tug his hair out. With a shaky breath, Marco tried to find the words “I’m fine.” But those words got stuck as a lump in his throat. He knew he was a bad liar, so he probably wouldn’t be able to fool them anyways but he wasn’t even able to try and tell a lie right now. The red letters on his locker mocked him even further.

Fucking Faggot.

Both Ymir and Reiner still had their eyes fixated on the petrified Marco. He tried to steel himself, he didn’t want anyone to see him like this, especially not Jean. Oh, god, Jean could be here any moment. Reiner continued to spew out words that couldn’t reach Marco. Knowing Reiner, it was probably words of comfort and encouragement. But all those words were lost on the way by Marco’s thoughts. Too bad he couldn’t process the meaning of the words, he could really need to hear those words. ‘Calm down, calm down.’

“Hey, Marco!”

Needles pierced all of his limbs and in an instant Marco was frozen again. He couldn’t move. The panic was grabbing a hold of him again as once more his mind seemed to have shut down.

“Jean...?” Basic functions like breathing became difficult. He glanced over in the direction from where Jean was coming from.

He raised an eyebrow. The scene and the mood everyone in it radiated must’ve been impossible to miss. Reiner’s arm slid off Marco’s shoulder when Jean continued to approach them. The serious look on Jean’s face was too much for Marco. He winced and looked away from him. He couldn't look at Jean, the other two, or the glaring red text on his locker. He just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Hey, Marco, what’s taking so long?”

“J-Jean...?” Marco repeated his friend's name once more. All other words seem to get stuck in his throat. Memories from his previous school flashed in his head as he was paralyzed. He didn’t want those incidents to occur here. It had turned out fine in the end because he outlasted them. But as any painful memory goes, it was occasionally brought back up by someone else’s words or as a memory in Marco’s mind.

Jean walked up to them, and Marco could tell from the silence that Jean was inspecting the locker.

“How immature.” He sighed. “Who would do something like this?”

“I-I don't know.” Marco replied, even though he knew the question was rhetorical. He realized that perhaps it would’ve been better if he kept quiet because by speaking up Jean could hear how shaky his voice was.

Marco felt Jean’s eyes on him. His gaze felt like iron-bars impaling him from all directions. His head filled with pleas to Jean for him to look away. Too bad that they can’t communicate via telepathy, though Marco wasn’t sure he wanted Jean to ever see what kind of stuff was going on in his head...

Reiner stepped in to the conversation. “All of these lockers are students only in the Natural Science programs. But all of the students for this program were supposed to be in class.”

Jean sighed. “It’s a bit weird though that they only wrote on one locker.” He paused to rub his right temple while thinking. “Either they must've had one locker in target, or they ran out of time.”

Marco was thankful that Reiner had stepped in. It gave him some more time to recover from this ordeal. His eyes darted around in the locker room, trying to find some more red text on other lockers. There were a few more further in, but Marco couldn't quite read what they said. His eyes momentarily locked with Ymir's while he was scouting their surroundings. Her arms were crossed, and her face had an expression that looked like she was judging him. His stomach flipped, and he broke eye-contact.

Reiner and Jean had continued to discuss the incident. Jean was the one leading the discussion.

“One possibility is that they went to the restrooms and then did it. Another possibility is that they cut class. There’s also the possibility of it being from another student outside of our program.”

Reiner scratched his neck. “There’s not much we can do about it anyway if no one saw them. If we knew then we could confront them and show that red pen up their asses.” A typical offhanded comment from Reiner.

Once Reiner were out of replies to give to Jean, Jean’s focus turned once more to Marco. A shudder was sent across his entire body. He could help but to wonder if Jean’s eyes were always this intense?

“Meh, it was probably meant for my locker.” Ymir said with a flat tone, and an equally neutral expression on her face. “That’s not the only graffiti here either, there’s more on the lockers further in.”

Marco’s eyes widened in astonishment. He hadn’t expected Ymir to speak up, in fact, he would’ve most certainly forgotten that she was even here if they hadn’t locked eyes earlier. Jean cocked his head to the side, an audible “Tch” escaped between his teeth.

“Vandals. This is why the school feels a lot shittier than what it actually is.” Jean genuinely looked angry. Not his usual frustrated look, but angry. His jaw was clenched, brows furrowed and his knuckles were turning white. This had a surprisingly calming effect on Marco. Perhaps because it gave him a reason to focus on someone else than himself.

“Hey, calm down.” He reached out Jean with a bit of uncertainty. The words that he had previously tried to calm himself down was now coming out as a stream of his throat. “I’m sure it’s just a random slur written on a random locker by a student.”

Jean was still grimacing. Marco tried to smile so his friend would let this accident go. If Jean let go, then perhaps so would he.

“Jean.” Marco said with a firmer tone to assure his friend that he was indeed fine.

It seems to have been working as the wrinkles on Jean’s face started to smooth out. “Yeah, but still. It’s not fun to have to return to a locker that’s been vandalized.” He tapped his heel in a staccato rhythm. Jean had returned to his normal, annoyed look.

Things aren’t always bliss and butterflies when it came to love. Marco tried explaining to himself rationally that it shouldn’t had affected him as much as it did. It was probably the work of a bored teenager. And yet it words got stuck in his throat, before being able to spew them all out in perfect succession after saying them to someone else than him.

Marco should’ve expected these kind of mood swings. Even if it was his first love, he had spent several evenings reading about how people experienced love ever since he reached the realization that he too was in love. All of the peaks had been higher than normal, so it was only natural that the dips were becoming more extreme than previous. Were all of the bumps going to be this horrible?

He didn’t want to continue having these feelings. It wasn’t worth all the trouble.

 

* * *

 

Marco had started to avoid using his locker since that day. Most of his books had been brought home, and he brought all of the books with him that he needed during the day. Jean was the one who suggested the idea, and so the entire corner group had started doing so.

It was almost time for their math exams. Marco was quite happy that they were going to have the stage one math exam now in spring, even if the course had ended before the winter holidays. He was certain that he would do better now than he would’ve done if their exam would’ve been shortly after finishing the course. He’d learned a lot from the stage 2 course. The only bad thing was that the stage 2 exam was scheduled two days after the first exam.

They had formed quite a large study group a few weeks ago. It was the entire gang that was attending Reiner’s party. But because it had become so large, the top four in the class when it came to math meet an extra day in the week. And today they were going to quickly brush up all the math formulas they were taught in the stage 1 course.

Marco’s stage 1 book was in his locker. And Jean had his book at home.

It didn’t feel scary or difficult to return to the locker area after not doing so for a while. It mostly just felt a bit odd and melancholic. The red letters were still there. The colour had faded a bit, and had started to run a bit. Marco suspected it was due to Sasha stuffing her wet clothes in the locker on rainy mornings. She said that was the only time she used her lockers nowadays because she didn’t want to walk around with a wet jacket in school.  He fidgeted with the keys in his keychain before finding the right key and unlocked his locker.

He shut the locker and stared at the red slur. It had lost most of its impact, but it still bore small needles into Marco’s chest. He sighed, turned the key, and then yanked it out so he could leave this place.

“Hey.” A voice suddenly called out to him.

The voice startled him and he instinctively held up his books as a shield.

It was Ymir. She was wearing loosely fitting baggy cargo pants and a tight tank top. The mix effectively showed off her feminine side while still making her look like a tomboy.  

“Haven’t seen you use your locker in a while.” She gave him a piercing glare, making Marco feel he was being driven up against the wall for not doing something that he should have done.

“Not really, no.” Marco replied, forcefully pushing his shoulders down so he wouldn’t look as uncomfortable as he was. “I just came here to get an old book for a course we don’t have anymore.”

She flicked her hair to the side and furrowed a brow. “And why aren’t you using your locker anymore?”

Marco fidgeted. “W-what’s up with the third degree here?” Great. Stuttering while trying to deliver an offhandedly comment. “Bringing all books from home saves you time from having to walk to the locker after every lesson.”

“Riiight.” She said, dragging out the vowel as her chin lifted in the air.

She then closed in on the distance between them. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the homophobic comment on your locker, hm?”

All of Marco’s joints were locked into place. He knew from the second she started talking to him that it wasn’t to have a friendly chat, but he wasn’t expecting to be interrogated by his intimidating upperclassman. He took a step to the side and broke eye contact.

“No. Now excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be.” His eyes were strained as he tried not to look at her. Marco took a few shaky steps forward.

Then there was a sudden constrain around his neck. Ymir had grabbed onto his hoodie, pulling him back into her. A quiet whine escaped Marco’s throat as he staggered, trying to regain balance. Her arm slid across his shoulder like a snake and he could feel her cheek press against the side of his head.

“Just be honest with me, cause there’s no point trying to lie if you completely lack the skill for it. Now why would some letters make you stop using your locker?”

Marco tried to squirm out of Ymir’s grab, but the girl was surprisingly strong. “I already told you.” He responded, trying to coat his tone in as much conviction as possible.

Her eyes narrowed, telling him that she wasn’t believing a single word that was coming out of his mouth. “So it wouldn’t have to do with you feeling insulted by the sloppy handwriting?”

Marco’s eyes darted to the side, trying to get a better read of Ymir’s expression as she turned her head slightly. Her breath on his ear made every hair in the area stand out. “You wouldn’t happen to be gay, would you?”

Marco’s breath hitched involuntarily as Ymir finished her sentence.

Marco was stunned by those words. His mind was wiped clean and there were no words queueing in his throat. He tried to respond but since his mind was still restarting, the only sounds that came out was stuttered nonsense. For Ymir, this seems to been good enough response as she now purred against his ear.

“There's nothing wrong with being gay, you know.” Ymir said and rubbed her cheek against Marco's. “I'm gay. You're gay. We both have freckles. We should start a club.”

Her grip on him had loosen up and was more playful than restricting. Even so, Marco felt as his personal space was being intruded. He was still gripping tightly onto his book, shielding his chest. As if stage 1 math was going to protect him from this kind of situation.

“Don’t be absurd…” Marco weakly protested, finally being able to form words again. He wanted to protest against Ymir’s comment about him being gay, but...

It was true. It felt odd not to deny it though. Marco thought it might've to do with him not yet fully accepting that fact.

She chuckles as her arm slides off his shoulders. She dug up a small pad of post-it notes and began frantically writing down something on it.

“Here.” She said with a satisfied tone when she was finished. Then she poked Marco with it on his forehead. Marco blinked owlishly as she gave the note a small pat as she made sure it would stay on his forehead. As she walks ahead, she suddenly turn around facing him again.

“I’m serious though. If you need someone to talk to, I’ll be there. Just find a treehouse and bring something to drink.” She snapped her fingers and mimicked a pistols firing at him before turning her heel.

She waved him off, leaving Marco alone with his confusion. There was a lot of questions in his head that had gone unanswered for quite some time now. And to say it wasn't worrying him was a flat lie. Perhaps getting those questions out in the air would help. He removed the post-it note on his face and read the numbers. Ymir’s phonenumber.

He pulled out his phone and added the new number before folding the note and shoving it down his pocket together with his phone. The use of that number would most likely happen quite soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Cries* First time writing anything smutty. This took longer than I had expected. D:
> 
> Feedback is much appreciated as always, and please tell me if you find any errors so I can correct them.
> 
> Question for you readers: Any other character's POV you'd be interested in reading?


	5. Something's wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this took longer than expected. Had some problems finding an internship and getting acclimatized to all the work, so everything on my free time sorta came to a halt. But it's here now, yay!

Fucking exams.

Jean had entered the classroom at 09.43 together with his friends, stumbled rather. Sasha had her arms around Connie and Marco, smiles decorating the boys’  face while she was loudly expressing her dislike towards having these exams. The teacher held up her finger in front of mouth to signal them to quiet down as they entered the classroom. He sighed. Did it matter anyway? The test wouldn’t start in another 20 minutes so. Jean straightened his posture and exchanged some glances with his friends. From the looks of it, they were all thinking the same thing. They all dropped off their phone in a small cardboard box on the teacher’s desk before they started to scout around for their assigned desk. Jean glanced at the whiteboard with some boxes and letters scribbled on it. He was going to sit in the middle of the classroom. Great. At least he would be able to see the clock from there.

He pulled out his chair and sat down. His friends were spread out across the classroom, Marco sat in the front row, Sasha by the door and Connie in the back row. It was still early, but Jean didn’t mind that. That just meant he could prepare in peace, so if he was missing something, he would have time to fix it. He aligned his pencils next to each other and then dug up one of his many erasers in his bag.

Hearing Marco chuckle made Jean’s head snap to the side. He was handing out an eraser to Connie and a pencil sharpener to Sasha. Why wasn’t he surprised that the stupid duo hadn’t prepared properly, and that Marco had thought of them and brought extras for them. Tch. Their freckled knight in shining armour. Sweet as syrup.

Marco rubbed the tip of his nose and a soft shade of pink spreading out on his cheeks. Jean had been around him long enough to know it was one of Marco’s many tics. This one in particular was usually triggered when Marco was embarrassed. Sasha and Connie was probably showering him with compliments, and Marco being so modest would feel embarrassed over their exaggerated praise. A lot of the praise and compliments Marco got were true though. Jean sighed. He wanted to go over there and join his friends, but he felt as if he had nothing to bring to the table. Resigned to his lonely fate, Jean let out a loud sigh and stared at the school desk in front of him.

A light, but unexpected pat on his back caused his pens to misalign. Marco gave him a warm smile and wished him good luck on the exam before heading to his seat. Jean tried to return a smile but the drilling thought of how he liked Marco’s smile made it difficult. He tried to store that thought on a shelf for some other time. The amount of time spent about thinking about Marco was already too high for Jean’s liking. It was like an itching scab on his arm. Clawing it wouldn’t help the healing at all, but it was difficult not to when it was itching like hell.

10:00 am

Jean was quickly skimming through the questions so he can quickly calculate how much time he has per question. He writes down a number on every page. That way he knows around what time he should move on to the next page. The questions on the first page are the easiest ones, multiple questions where you only need to write down a word or a sentence. These will definitely take less time to fill out than the time limit he set on himself. So far, so good.

10:35 am

The first student leaves. No fucking way they completed the test. They probably only filled in the few answers they knew and then sat and waited for a while so it would look like they actually did something.  
A quick memory flashed by in his head of the intrickate drawings Connie did once on a chemistry test.

11:05

The long silence of the classroom broke as Sasha dropped her pen. All eyes fell on her and a quiet sob was heard from the girl as she quickly bent down to fetch it. Jean made a bet in his head, predicting that she would later complain about how embarrassing this was.

11:45

There’s not much time left. Stress was fueling Jean’s pen as he tried to write down as much as possible on the last two questions. Those were the “essay”-questions, the ones where you could easily write an answer that would fill one page. But that wasn’t good enough. Some would take up to four pages, just to make sure you’ve gotten everything on the teacher’s list so they can all check of their checklist and give the best grade.  The majority of the class was still sitting here. But people were now starting to leave. The screeching of chairs against the floor only made Jean feel more stressed as time was running out.

12:00

Jean let out a sigh of defeat as the teacher told them to drop their pens as time had run out. He handed in his test, picked up his phone from the cardboard box and reunited with Marco at the door. Sasha and Connie were probably waiting for them somewhere else in school as they had left a couple of minutes earlier.

“How do you think it went?” Jean asked when they had left the classroom. Casting a quick glance back to see if the door was closed behind them.  
“Good,” Marco paused to chuckle. “Ah, I know you’re not suppose to say that after you've taken a test but... I answered all the questions on the test so…”

Jean sighed. “Jeez, it’s okay to be confident about these kinds of things.” Why did Marco always have to be so modest about everything? He paused to read Marco’s expression before he continued, “We studied our asses off, so of course it would turn out well. It’s not like the teacher grading our paper will give us less points because we’re confident.”

Marco offered Jean a weak smile. “I know. It’s just that you’re not suppose to say that you think you did well because then you jinx it.” He broke eye-contact and stared at the floor. “Arrogance hinders progress,” he then said with an uncharacteristically gloom voice.

This is stupid. Marco’s stupid. But it’s okay since it’s Marco and Marco just so happens to be everyone’s knight in shining armour. At least the corner group’s.

Jean threw a quick glance at the phone in Marco’s hands. He’d finally gotten a new phone. That old flip-phone was driving Jean crazy. Marco could be such a dork when it came to games, so why Marco was owning such an old phone was illogical. He would always deflect Jean’s nagging with excuses like not being able to afford a new phone, for liking phones with buttons better, and so on.

“I’m going to ask Sasha where they are,” Marco told Jean as his eyes were glued onto the screen.

“Considering it’s Sasha were talking about, they’re probably eating lunch in the cafeteria.”

“I suppose that would be most likely. It’s 12 o’clock after all,” Marco replied. Fingers moving quickly across the screen.

This was Sasha they were talking about. The girl who loved food and always ate her meals. The girl who got grumpy if they told her to wait for five minutes before going to the cafeteria. Jean felt like expressing that it was easy to predict the actions of their female friend, but held back since Marco was mumbling about arrogance earlier. “We could just head straight for the cafeteria.”

Marco briefly looked up from his phone and shot Jean a half-lidded glance. “Just let me send them a text." He said and sighed while he continued to tap the screen.

“Calling it right now, they’re in the cafeteria,” Putting his hands behind his neck, Jean stretched his back.

Marco replied with a half-chuckle, half-sigh. Refusing to admit that Jean was right due to it would probably enlarge his ego. _‘Nothing wrong with having some self confidence.’_ Jean thought to himself after remembering Marco’s most recent complains about Jean behaving slightly arrogant. He had been showing off a bit more recently. But Marco was the one who told him to make use of his skills, so why the complaints? It didn’t matter much anyway since he got Marco’s attention by doing so.

Jean glanced over at his friend. “You wanna hang out after school?” He asked casually. Stretching further making his back crack and pop in several places. Marco replied in silence with a disapproving cringe on his face.

“Can’t,” Gaze returned to his phone. “We both have practise today.”

Jean let his arms fall to his sides as he relaxed. “So? It’s just soccer.”

“Jean, you shouldn’t skip out on soccer. I’m not skipping on basket anyway.” Marco replied with a stern look on his face. Well, as stern his face and voice could manage. The gentle nature of his friend shone through in almost everything he did. It was difficult to imagine an angry Marco as when he did a stern face it seemed to gradually turn into a pout instead.

“ _Tch._ Fine,” Jean shoved his hands in his pockets, thankful for not sounding like a complete bitch saying that.

Marco leaned in closer and offered Jean a warm smile. “We can hang out for a short while after practise if you want to.”

He liked Marco’s smile better when it was meant for him. He returned the smile but then shuddered in discomfort. That thought caused Jean shake his head and stare at the floor. Not that the floor was particularly interesting at the moment, just that it was too hard to look at Marco. Adoring a friend’s smile as much as Jean did had to be unhealthy. ‘What a stupid way to think. If I like someone’s smile, shouldn’t I like seeing it no matter who it’s for?’

“Yeah, sure.” Jean replied with a chuckle and returned a toothy smile as he had no control of the corners of his mouth. He gave Marco a playful punch on the shoulder to increase the space between them. It felt a bit awkward to have Marco so close when both of them were in school.

Marco’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and eyes flickered as he read the message he received.

“They’re in the cafeteria,” He said and shoved his phone back in his pocket. Jean realized that there was no click sound. He almost missed the sound that Marco’s old flip-phone used to make whenever he closed his phone. Then he would know whenever Marco put his phone away, and wasn’t sneakingly playing a game and pretending to listen.

“Told you.” His face cracked in to a grin as he nudged Marco with his elbow. Marco returned the nudge by giving Jean a gentle push to the side. They continued to shove each other back and forth for a while until they had oncoming traffic from the other direction.

 

* * *

 

It was during music class when it happened. A serious spike of jealousy that made Jean worry.

Since this was going to be the last concert for this year’s seniors, about 80% of all the spotlight would be given to them. Jean didn’t really care, but everyone else seems to be annoyed and less motivated because of it. Except for Reiner and Marco. They were trying to round up everyone to perform something this concert as well. Why they cared so much about their precious screentime baffled Jean. Reiner was a bit of a show stealer, but Marco? And he was trying to get Jean to perform in the front again. Marco was holding his own little motivational speech for Jean while Reiner was rounding up everyone else. But then they got interrupted mid-speech by a semi-familiar face approaching the group.

“Hey, can I borrow freckles here for a minute?” The girl stood with her hand on her hip and the other hand was flicking a few hair strands away from her face. It was one of the upperclassmen girls in Marco’s mentor hour’s group.

“Well, hello Ymir,” Reiner greeted her with a grin. “Feel like joining us in trying to convince teach to let us have a solo performance without any seniors in it?”

“Nah, I’m already going to sing in multiple performances, so my ego is satisfied,” The grin on her face turned more serious as she jutted her chin at Marco. “I need freckles here for a moment, s’that okay?”

It was the freckled senior from Marco’s mentor hour group had approached them. When hers and Marco’s eyes made it started to make Jean boil.

Jean’s brows knitted a disapproving frown. “You have freckles too.” Quite a worthless comeback, but it was all Jean could think up at the moment.

“Yeah, that’s exactly why I need him.” She stuck out her tongue at Jean as she grabbed ahold of Marco’s arm. “Us freckled cheeks gotta stick together.”

His chest tightened as he watched them walk away. A stream of questions were running through his mind, making him feel uneasy. Jean’s eyes trailed from the floor, to the soles of Marco’s shoes up to the bright smile on his face. The freckled girl raised an eyebrow and looked like she was trying to suppress a laugh.

Maintaining the flow in his mind made it difficult to focus on Reiner’s motivational speech. Everything around him was like a haze as his vision was focused on two people across the room. Whatever Reiner had said, it seems to have been enough to convince everyone to give it a shot. Jean remained quiet while his surrounding friends were chatting around him cheerfully.

After what had felt like an eternity, Ymir returned with Marco. Jean sneered at her as they approached the group. Jean had been alternating between glaring at them and glaring at the clock whenever they looked in his direction. Perhaps they had noticed that he was glaring at them.i

“I’m done with freckles here. You can have your guitarist back,” and with a few pats on his back she had sent him off. Marco smiled weakly as he rejoined his classmates.

_‘What’s he doing with her?’_ Jean pouted. Though he didn’t have time to sulk for long as his thoughts got interrupted by the loud sound of Connie blowing a trumpet. Perhaps it was for the best. Since Marco left to talk with Ymir about something Jean has felt sour.

“Is that your instrument?” Reiner asked, his tone sounding slightly mocking.

“My mom suggested I began with something smaller!” Connie snapped back, “She said it’s difficult to play the saxophone if you don't have the lungs for it!” He turned slightly to the side, shielding his golden instrument. Reiner nodded.

“I can understand that,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. “You want to play the sax?”

Connie nodded carefully, “Yeah, eventually. It’s kinda expensive though and it feels like a bit of a waste if I can’t play it after I get it.” His shoulders relaxed as he let out a nervous laughter.

“It’s good to have goal,” Reiner said and patted Connie on the back while walking past him to get to his instrument. Jean’s attention drifted off elsewhere after it took much concentration to focus on what one person was saying, with everyone talking and playing their instruments around him. The conversation between Connie and Reiner had become too sappy for his taste anyway.

“Are you okay, Jean?” Marco piqued up, cocking his head to the side. Jean shrugged, not wanting to talk about it but feeling too shitty to fake it.

Marco looked worryingly at Jean as he got his guitar out of its case. Connie then popped in together with Reiner to fill him in with what he had missed while he was gone.

Jean was too busy reflecting over his thoughts and feelings to using this second chance to listen to what everyone had agreed on regarding their performance.

Jean knew that he depended on Marco a lot, so whenever Marco wouldn’t show up in school or at an event, Jean would consider going home, or going wherever Marco was. Being too co-dependant on someone isn’t healthy, he knew that, he had other friends too, so it wasn’t worrying him too much. But something that was bothering him a lot and that he couldn’t justify in his head was the jealousy spikes. The fact that he felt jealous at all was a clear indication that something was wrong, but the frequencies of the spikes occurring had increased. It also took a longer time to calm down from these spikes.

Jean glanced over his shoulder at Marco. Marco had returned to his side, so why did he still feel so uneasy?

Marco seem to have noticed that Jean had glanced at him, as he moved down from his chair onto the floor and rested his underarms on Jean’s knee. “You sure everything’s okay?”

_‘Damn those puppy eyes,’_ Jean tried to avert his gaze to someplace else, “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

Marco beamed at him, causing Jean to give a gentle nudge to get the freckled boy off of him as he fought against the blushing on his cheeks.

Rest of the lesson went smoothly, Jean even managed to get some information of the song they were going to perform, he had never heard of it so that gave him a good enough excuse to faff about while those who knew the melody practised it on their instruments.

Marco’s fingers pressed against the strings and neck of the guitar as he strummed across the strings to play the accords he wanted. Admiration filled Jean as he continued to watch those hands move.

Marco told him to start practising instead of wasting his time watching him strum his guitar. Time spent watching Marco’s skill didn’t feel like a waste of time.

 

* * *

 

Jean was already aware of this pattern, but since he started to write everything down it was becoming more and more obvious. This was the first written proof of his obsession, if all the

The dreams weren’t really bad dreams, just normal ones with Marco in focus most of the time. Hanging out with Marco playing mash-up of games that doesn’t exist, walking around school with him, and dreams of them talking to each other in various locations. They were all rather normal dreams, except for a few of them that had some weird elements, like the one when they were sitting in a park and a bus suddenly crashed in front of them, and their reaction was to disapprovingly comment on the reckless behaviour of the busdriver. What bothered Jean was that Marco was always there. He was always in his dreams, and it irked him. At first Marco was mostly in the background, sometimes promoted to supporting character with a few more lines. By now he was practically the main character. Was it normal to dream this much about one person? Did it mean anything?

Jean didn’t believe in any of these dream-reading nonsense. But lately he’d gotten more curious about what his dreams meant. In the end, he continued to tell himself that dreams doesn’t mean anything, that they are simply images in your head as the brain continues to process memories and information. Marco was there simply due to them hanging out all the time. His dreams were simply images from whatever he’d done lately.

The day that awesome game got released? Jean dreamt about playing it with Marco.

A week full of exams? Jean dreamt about comparing grades with Marco and the duo.

A big soccer game coming up? Jean dreamt about losing the game and making a fool of himself in front of a disapproving Marco who had been cheering him on from the crowd. That one was borderline nightmare.

But not all dreams were “normal”. Ever since the LAN at Reiner’s place, occasional dreams would be about that. Jean would always wake up from those dreams feeling like he did back then, extremely horny. Mastrubating regularly usually kept those dreams at bay, but it was always a risk of him being caught since his mother had not learnt how to knock before entering.

_‘Focus, focus’_

No matter how much he repeated those words in his head, they never came into effect. He would have control over his thoughts momentarily, but his mind would always wander to the same destination.

“Hey, Jean! I’m free, goddammit!”

Jean tried to feint, but his lack of focus resulted in almost tripping over the ball. He managed to recover quickly and successfully evaded the other player. Passing the ball to Connie. It felt horrible from the second his foot connected to the ball. The power in the kick was fine, but a lot of the potential energy was lost when he hit the ball from the wrong angle. The speedster of the team managed to get the ball anyway and managed to score for their team. Everyone rushed to Connie to pat his back and head for making the team happy.

“Sorry for the terrible pass,” Jean said as he patted Connie on his shoulder, trying to mask some of his disappointment in himself. Connie flashed him a grin that said everything was fine since he managed to score anyway.

Jean sighed. He had been unable to properly focus today again. He felt bad for dragging the team down with him, even if he didn’t care much for soccer. They were nice people, and that was probably why he had continued to play. That and because his dad wanted him to play.

Something was wrong with him. His sexual frustration was not that new. Pretty much any girl with shoulder-length hair or longer that showed kindness towards him could end up in a wet dream of his. But it had reached a new peak with him dreaming of his best friend in the same way. No, it wasn’t in the same way as the dreams with girls. It was more about the situation than the person involved. His stomach started to churn when he thought back on that evening, but he had to wave that thought away as it was certainly bad to get turned on while he was in the changing room with his teammates. How lame he was that the most romantic and sexual experienced involved his best friend.

A thick lump sank in his stomach as he thought about it.

“So, Jean,” Connie said as he approached the spot next to Jean after they both finished showering. “Are you excited about the match coming up?”

Jean sighed as he removed the towel on his shoulders, “Nah, not really.”

Connie raised his left eyebrow. “Why not?”

Trying not to sigh once more, Jean threw his head back as he stretched his back before began digging for his clothes in his locker. “Whatever man, it's just soccer.”

Connie pouted. He opened his mouth as if he had something he wanted to say, but decided to keep it to himself and brood alone. Perhaps it was better that way, Jean was neck deep in his own thoughts and troubles.

He should still apologize to Connie before both of them were leaving practise.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe our first year is almost over…”

Jean continued to stare down at the paper in front of him while Marco was reminiscing about the events that had occurred during their first year. But even he couldn’t help but to think about how time was passing so quickly. The corridors in school had lately been decorated by fliers counting down until the seniors would graduate.

“One month left until freedom!” were sprawled in a cheerful font on the fliers. Jean had took the liberty to correct this statement on one of the fliers, by crossing out the word “freedom” a replacing it with “unemployment”. He had made sure that those letters were readable by multiple people.

Marco had looked at him with a disapproving pout, telling him to let the seniors enjoy their last month in school without raining on their parade.

“I’m just merely telling them the truth,” Jean flashed a grin towards his friends that were surrounding him and the flier. Marco sighed and replied that he thought Jean was writing that comment mostly out of spite than being truthful.

And maybe there was some truth in that. People were far too gung-ho for their own good, keep telling everyone to live like there’s no tomorrow. Complete bullshit according to Jean. First off, that was mostly just used as an excuse for reckless behaviour. Actions conducted without a thought. No, you live everyday as if there is a tomorrow, and a day after tomorrow, and a day after that. You not only live a life, you build it, and Jean was determined to build the groundwork of his life as sturdy as he could.

“Have you looked over at the papers we got with the courses we can pick for next year?” Jean lazily asked as he continued to read the lines on the paper in his hands.

The sound of the bedsheets shifting came from behind him, two seconds later and Marco’s body heat could be felt pressing up against Jean’s back. It felt nice. Marco was always so warm.

Marco rested his chin on Jean’s shoulder and hummed. “A little,” he said and adjusted his position. Jean thought Marco was going to hug his from behind when he saw Marco’s arms appear and move under his. But instead, his hands gently grabbed the paper Jean was holding. He angled it slightly so he could skim through the available courses on the paper. “Didn’t Sasha and Connie say they wanted to hang out sometime soon where we can all plan what courses to take together?”

“Yeah,” Jean sighed and leaned slightly back. Lately he’d been craving contact, ever since he cuddled for the first time with someone. Looking back on it, Jean couldn’t understand why he used to hate physical contact before.

The warmth of someone against your skin, the soothing feeling of having someone else’s arms around you was incredibly soothing. Suppose it depended on why you couldn’t with. Jean sometimes caught himself daydreaming about what it would be like to cuddle with a soft girl that he also had feelings for. That day seemed far off though, so those daydreams would often not last very long. Wishful thinking. Until then, Marco looked and was incredibly inviting.

Marco never seemed to mind either. So whenever they were alone, Jean would try to find any opportunity for them to sit close. It also made it possible for him to observe Marco.

“Are there any courses that you know you want to pick already?” Marco moved his face backwards, some of his hair brushed against Jean’s ear. He sharply inhaled a deep breath and held it as he tried to fight a blush spreading on his face.

Marco’s hands let go off the paper as he crawled further back on the bed. The warmth on his back from his friend lingered, but it was slowly fading away. Jean let out a deep sighed and fell back to the bed. His eyes rolled as far back as possible in order get a glimpse of Marco. The absence of his warmth had triggered a melancholic feeling. Jean adjusted his head slightly so he could see what his friend was doing. And perhaps find a reason to why his friend had moved away.

“I don’t really know. Programming perhaps?”

Marco was fiddling with his phone, but quickly put it away once he saw that Jean was looking at him. “I see,” he said, and laid down on his stomach. His face looking at Jean’s from above. “I think it will suit you.”

Jean tilted his head slightly upwards so he could get a better view of Marco. “You?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ll probably decide later when we hang out with the rest of the gang.”

Jean's mouth turned into a straight line. He couldn’t help but to feel less important when Marco was talking about how they should wait for the duo. Why? It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek and make some pre-planning. It would probably end up with him and Marco picking the same courses, with Connie and Sasha joining in on some of them.

_‘I wonder if he’d think it’d be weird if I pulled him down to cuddle…’_

They both lazily sat up, an arm’s length of a distance between them. Jean’s gaze darted between stealing glances at Marco and staring at his own hands. He scratched his arm before breaking the silence.

“So how about this weekend?” he asked, trying to mask his hopefulness under a thin layer of aloofness.

“Can’t,” Marco replied with a hint of regret in his voice. He still seemed determined not to share any information about who he was seeing. Jealousy seeped into his chest as an infection. And it was spreading into his mind. Why couldn’t he tell him? Couldn’t he maybe tag along? After all, he wanted to spend time with Marco. The green monster seized his throat and words were spat out, “Why not?” he blurted out.

“I’ve already made plans with someone.” Marco replied and gave Jean a weak smile. He already knew the answer, yet he asked without thinking. Thinking that perhaps him asking would make a difference. Perhaps challenging Marco to see if he would lie to cover up. Why he would do that was something that Jean couldn’t think of, but jealousy did always seem to throw away all of his rationality.

“With whom?” Jean continued to press on.

Marco started to fidget slightly. “Just a friend.”

The fact that Marco had other friends than him wasn’t a surprise. They were in the same class, had activities outside of school, so there was a very high probability of meeting people. But that he had said “just a friend” instead of a name made it obvious that this person was someone outside of the friends they had in common. With a magnetic personality and a warm aura of gentleness, of course he would be capable to make friends outside of their common friend circle. “Just a friend, huh?”

“Uh-huh.”

There was a small pause in their conversation. Jean bit his lip as he tried to still the feeling of jealousy forming inside him. “Who?”

“Jean, what? Why are you asking me with such a…” He stopped to let out a warm laugh. “Don’t look at me like that! You’re being weird!"

“And why are you squirming like that? With such a guilty expression like that, it’s only normal to assume that you’re hiding something.” Jean wasn’t sure if he was acting more out of jealousy or playfulness. As much as he wanted to, he knew he would have the sole rights of having Marco as a friend, but it sure didn’t stop him from trying. He wanted to know everything there was about Marco, sometimes to a degree where it felt it was bordering on stalking. Yet at the same time, Marco was acting as gentle as always. Warm smile, soft voice and a chuckle that always made Jean feel better when hearing it.

“I’m not hiding anything!” Marco’s mouth was a squiggly line as he tried to suppress both a smile and laughter. “Come on, Jean! Stop it!”

“Do I know this friend of yours?”

“Maybe…” Marco teased. His eyes were now half-lidded and his smile was full of mischievousness.

The left corner of Jean’s mouth tugged upwards. He moved even closer to Marco and had moved further up on the bed. Standing on his knees, he loomed over his squirmy and embarrassed friend.

His right eye twitched slightly before breaking eye-contact. “You might know of her, but you probably don’t know her name.”

A her? A list of potential girls were forming in his head. No one from his basket practices since they were an all boys team. Maybe one of the girls at their jujutsu practise who Jean hadn’t bothered learning their names yet because they were so rarely there... “What’s her name then?”

“Mmm…” Marco hummed, further testing Jean’s patience. “No.”

His patience was running out. Or rather, there was none to begin with. At least when it came to finding out who he was competing against for Marco’s time. “Why can’t you tell me her name?”

Marco rubbed the tip of his nose. The famous tic from Marco. He always rubbed the tip of his nose whenever he was nervous. It didn’t take long until Jean had learned that about him. Not that it was any difficulties reading his expressions anyway since Marco displayed his feelings like an open book. Always having a warm expression on his face. Jean liked that about him a lot.

So why was his smile faltering? When it had earlier been so bright, pressing Marco for an answer had made it dim down. His thought continued to race for more names to add to the list of potential candidates.

A memory from music class suddenly flashed in his head. The girl who gave him chocolate on Valentine’s day, the freckled senior who was also in his mentor’s group, or the blonde chick who liked country songs and was always asking Marco if he wanted to perform with her. A stab of jealousy made Jean flinch. “Marco.” He said, trying to get his friend’s attention. His real feelings bleed through and was audible in the tone he spoke in.

“Huh?” A surprised Marco blinked owlishly at him. Confused over if they were still playing or if it had turned serious.

Jean took a deep breath, trying to stabilize his emotions before speaking. “Why can’t you tell me her name? And why are you so nervous?” He leaned in closer, and Marco’s reaction was to cower away slightly. Jean opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped as he registered Marco's reaction. His emotions then spilled over as it got the best of him. “What is it that you’re trying to hide from me?” His tone was too serious to be able to pass off as a joke.

Marco seemed to think so as well, as the smile on his face had disappeared completely. “I’m not nervous!” His hands beside each side was clenching the bedsheet.

“Yes you are,” Jean said with a sly smile on his face. Jealousy was subsiding as the expression on Marco was giving off edged him to continue to press on. “You’re so easy to read.”

He shifted his position and lifted his legs from the floor. Marco tightened his jaw as Jean slowly approached him on the bed on all fours. Like a sly cat viewing a potential prey. Marco pulled his legs up towards his chest as Jean’s smile widen. “Oh yeah?” He challenged Jean. trying to sound unaffected.

With a cocky grin on his face, Jean continued to move towards Marco who squirmed in the corner. “For example,” Jean said and lifted his right hand, “You always rub the tip of your nose when you’re nervous.”

The colour of Marco’s cheek deepened and spread across his cheeks like a spilled glass of wine on a white table cloth. His embarrassed behaviour triggered something in Jean. It excited him. He wanted to press further, make him more flustered. Perhaps this was the cause to Sasha’s and Connie’s behaviour towards him. But Jean wanted to be the one who made Marco behave like this. He didn’t want to trigger this reaction in public, as he wanted to be the only one to see Marco like this. Up-close to see his half-lidded eyes strain to look away, how the colour of his cheeks made his freckles turn red as well. Listening to those short stuttering vowels would sometime fill the silence, and small sighs of defeat and frustration.

“N-Nuh-uh!” Marco denied the fact, leaning so hard back to the wall that it looked like he was trying to go through the wall behind him.

“Ya-huh.” Jean replied, leaning in closer and bopping Marco on his nose.

Just by the brief contact Jean could still feel that Marco’s skin was warm and soft. Like lightning striking the ground, a fuzzy memory of eskimo kisses appeared in his mind. Jean tried not to think about it as he felt bothered about it. How cuddling with his best friend could be so... so...

His thoughts were cut short as Marco spoke up, “H-Hey your arm!” He said in a concerned voice, eyes aiming at Jean’s left arm that was supporting most of his weight.

“Huh?” Jean looked at his arm, “Oh.”

He adjusted his body weight distribution so it would be more even. His arm was slightly bending the other way. "It's okay, it bends like that normally." That his arms were double-jointed was nothing new to him. But that Marco hadn't noticed it yet was a bit of a surprise, considering all the time they spent together and the grabbing, tossing and limb-locking in the dojo. Marco was still gentle during practise, trying to execute every technique perfectly yet not applying more force than necessary in order to not harm his partner.

“Really? It looks like it hurts.” Marco continued to observe Jean’s arm with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He couldn’t help but to feel slightly embarrassed over being examined by his friend.

“Nah, it doesn’t,” A sensation like electricity shoot out  from his spine when Marco’s finger lightly touched his arm. He involuntarily retreated his arm, “Whoa! Hey! That tickles!”

“Is that so?” A mischievous smile was forming on Marco’s face. He was sitting up straight now, leaning in closer. He wasn’t imagining seeing a blush on his face, was he?

“I bet you’re ticklish as well,” Jean returned a smirk. Not budging from where he was. There was an odd feeling in the room when neither of them were moving, just smiling at each other. A knot formed in his stomach, and it got increasingly harder to keep the smirk on his face. Marco must’ve felt it too, because his smile was starting to slant and now it was obvious that a blush was spreading on his cheeks. That's when he decided to attack. Jean sprung forward, his goal in mind was to figure out where Marco was ticklish.

Marco was laughing and flailing his hands around to create a barrier between him and Jean. He managed to get a heartfelt laughter from his friend when he managed to reach the side of his stomach. Marco re-established his defence but a quick grab of his wrists was all it took to bring it down.

It brought down both of their balance as well.

Even with his defence brought down, Marco was still resisting and tried to free himself. The resistance had caused them both to lose their balance. Jean’s eyes slammed shut. They fell into the bed, Jean still gripping Marco’s wrists as he tumbled upon him. He had only blinked for a second, but yet the scene had changed completely.

His mouth went dry and he tried to fight off the blush spreading on his face. If someone were to walk in right now they would be in deep shit, because this would look so wrong. Jean holding Marco down by his wrists, straddled on top of him and both of them blushing hard. Marco was squirming under him making small groans and sighs as he tried to wiggle out of Jean’s grip. The mild resistance made Jean wonder if the exact same things were going through his mind.

“H-hey, Jean…” Marco said in a small voice, still not looking at him. “Would you… mind getting off me?”

“Ah…” A small sound of surprise escaped his throat as Marco’s request had stopped the thoughts in his head. “Y-Yeah, sure. Of course.” He mumbled as he let go of Marco’s wrists. The bedsprings made a weak squeak as Jean pushed himself up, still straddled on top of Marco. It felt difficult to hear his request, but even more difficult to comply. The way Marco’s eyes squinted with uncertainty and the way his jaw moved as he clinched and unclinched his teeth in nervousness made Jean only want time to stop so he could continue to watch how Marco’s body behaved. An insatiable curiosity.

He climbed off his friend and sat down at the edge of the bed, looking like a child who just got scolded for doing something bad and was told to sit in the corner to reflect over their actions. And reflecting he did.

What the hell was wrong with him? First he obsessed about Marco in his head. Marco, Marco. What would Marco like? What would Marco say? What kind of smile would Marco make?

When Marco had told Jean to spend some more time with his old friends without him a knot of reluctance formed in his stomach. His obsession was creating a distance between him and his other friends. Yet, in that moment Jean felt more jealous about Marco spending time with someone else than he felt sorry for neglecting his friends.

_‘Congrats Kirschstein, you just earned the prize for worst friend ever.’_

Jean still couldn’t find the energy to care.

The rest of the evening felt slightly awkward. There would be moments when no one said anything for a few minutes, before one of them would shyly try to bring up a topic to discuss. They decided to play that fantasy RPG-game Jean bought some time ago, but never finished. Jean never really considered himself to be that talkative, but with Marco conversations just seemed to flow naturally. Usually. Fear suddenly struck him, like lightning striking the only tree in a wide meadow. Perhaps Marco was starting to get so uncomfortable with him that he thinks it’s difficult to think of something to say? Were they running out of topics to talk about in the first place?

He glanced over to Marco, sitting next to him. Usually when they played games, Marco would always talk a lot. Especially when they were playing a singleplayer game. Marco was an excellent backseat gamer, even if such a thing seemed impossible. He would always point out things Jean missed without being annoying about it, give some good advice and suggestions and keep track on multiple things. But tonight he was quiet, and it bothered Jean greatly.

He stared at his friend sitting beside him, knowing that Marco would eventually notice and look back at him. His cheeks were flushed with a weak pink shade even though the tickling incident was over an hour ago. Their eyes met, and the shade on Marco’s cheeks grew more intense. Jean could feel he was blushing all the way to his ears. Jean broke eye-contact and saw that Marco was adjusting his blanket from the corner of his eye. The silence continued for a while longer.

It got a little better as Marco seemed to have calmed down, but by then it was time for him to go home. Jean wanted to mentally slap himself for thinking about asking Marco if he wanted to stay over. The reason to why he was so quiet was probably because he wanted to go home as soon as possible, but felt like that would be too rude to say outright.

“I had a good time, thanks for having me over,” Marco said, as he put on his jacket.

“Yeah, no problem,” Jean replied, trying to mask his uncertainty.

Marco threw him a glance as he adjusted his collar. He looked like he wanted to say something, that or Jean was desperate for Marco to say something. He unlocked the front door and walked out of the house, but then turned around to face Jean. Their eyes met, and for what felt like minutes they stood there in silence just staring at each other. His gaze fell down to Marco's mouth. He opened it slightly, as if to say something but no sounds were heard. His chest tightened as he slowly took a step forward to the door.

Marco’s mouth closed, and he gave Jean a weak smile instead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Like a gunshot, a pang of guilt and worry hit his chest. “Yeah,” he said, trying to control the pain from spreading. “See you tomorrow.”

Jean inhaled sharply as he closed the door once Marco had started to walk away. Marco’s weak smile continued to linger on in his head as the image had burned into his mind.

Something was terribly wrong. With himself, and with the situation between him and Marco. He would never be able to forgive himself if he fucked this up. He didn’t want to lose Marco, and if things continued like this, Marco would most certainly tire of him.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Jean grumbled under his breath as he locked the front door.

 

* * *

 

Marco started to slow down once Jean’s house was out of sight. He fumbled after his phone in his left pocket and browsed after a specific person in mind.

_‘At the end of the list, of course,’_ he thought to himself when he found the name he was looking for. Looking at the name for a brief moment before proceeding, he thought about what her last name could be. She’d never really mentioned it before and looking it up felt like invasion of privacy. He pressed the dial-button and brought his phone to his ear and listened to the beeps.

_“Yeah, this is Ymir.”_

“Ah, hi. This is Marco,” he replied back. Even on the phone was she intimidating. “We’re in the same mentor group in school.”

_“Yeah, I know who you are, freckles,”_ Ymir responded confidently. The sound of some papers rustling in the background was heard. _“What’s up? Sorry about the noise, I’m currently looking for the right papers we got ages ago for this assignment.”_

He fumbled nervously after words to say. “You told me I could call you if I wanted to talk about... you know.” He was already nervous about calling and talking about this in public, and it didn’t help that he thought Ymir was slightly intimidating.

More papers rustling. _“Yeah, of course. But didn’t we already settle on hanging out this weekend?”_ Ymir asked, before a momentarily pause. _“Oh, and this treehouse I found? It’s great, we can hang out and have our own little ceremony for starting our own gay club.”_

“I know, it’s just…” Marco paused and had a quick look around in his surroundings to make sure he was alone, “I wanted to confirm that we were going to meet up.”

The rustling suddenly stopped on Ymir side. Marco could sense that she had caught on his worry and the mood changed. _“What happened?”_ She asked with a serious tone.

Marco took a deep breath to try and calm himself down, he had moved his phone further away from him so Ymir wouldn’t hear that. “Nothing special. Just wanted to confirm,” he lied.

_“Mhmm,”_ Marco could hear by her tone that she wasn’t buying it at all. _“Of course it’s nothing, why else would you call to confirm with me that we’re still going to meet up?”_

“Well... a friend asked me if I wanted to hang out this weekend. I told him I was busy, and wanted to make sure…” This wasn’t a lie, but Marco pausing mid sentence several times made it too obvious that he was making up excuses. He quietly cursed himself for not being better at telling lies and excuses.

_“Yeah, and then what happened?”_

Marco froze. She couldn’t possibly know that what had happened after Jean had suggested they’d hang out this weekend. Nonetheless, he was taken aback by Ymir’s follow-up question. His shoulders slanted as he sighed. He was probably making this a lot bigger than what it was. Just thinking about making things bigger made his cheeks go warm as he wanted to throw himself on to a fence, neck first.

“I... can’t really talk about here. But I’ll tell you this weekend,” Watching his breathing pattern, Marco scratched his neck. “It’s nothing major though, I promise.” He quickly reassured her before the conversation awkwardly railed to smalltalk.

He sighed, and in almost a whisper he vented his thoughts out in the air after hanging up on Ymir.

“I don’t know how much more of this I’ll be able to take...”


End file.
